


Gift from Above

by kuzibah



Series: Waking Dream [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 00:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16170239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuzibah/pseuds/kuzibah
Summary: Jack and Ianto are pressed into service for Torchwood to help care for an orphaned baby alien. A decidedly NOT adorable baby alien. Spoilers through S2, then proceeding from my retool of CoE, Shell Shock. (Basically, CoE didn’t happen, Jack and Ianto have left Torchwood formally, although they remain on the payroll as “advisers.” Various characters from CoE are actually in Torchwood. You can probably follow fine if you haven’t read “Shell Shock,” since the action is mostly around Jack and Ianto.)





	1. Part One: Early Autumn

**September:**

Ianto stepped out of his car into his driveway, grateful his work was done for the week. He’d thought when he took the job that three half-days a week as office assistant to the Dean of Student Affairs would be a nice way to get out of the house and feel useful. Not that he didn’t enjoy being Jack’s… well, whatever he was. But he just needed to get free of the orbit sometimes, and some mindless filing and typing, in between acclaim for his coffee-making skills, seemed to be a reasonable way to keep himself involved and bring a few non-Torchwood pounds into the home.

But that was before the Dean announced a six-month sabbatical, effective start of term, leaving the day-to-day running of the office to a mostly-absent Assistant Dean, an already overworked administrative director, an 80-year-old secretary, and Ianto. Which meant his quiet, part-time, get-out-of-the-house-for-a-few-hours-so-Jack-doesn’t-drive-me-crazy job had turned into a miserable timesuck of students complaining about their housing, their roommates, their professors, their courses, and whatever else Ianto sat still long enough to listen to.

Seriously, these children had somehow managed to make it through up to twenty years of life (including school) so far without dying of stress. Why did they think someone would wave a magic wand and make it easy for them now they were at Uni?

Some days, he missed feeding the Weevils.

“Yoo-hoo, Ianto, dear!”

Ianto turned to see their elderly next-door neighbor, Mrs Louden, leaning over the hedge with a tin in her outstretched hand.

“I made these for the Captain,” she said. “To thank him for helping me with my clogged drain this morning.”

“I’m sure he’ll be very grateful, Mrs Louden,” Ianto said, taking them.

“He’s in the garden shed,” she told him, pointing helpfully.

“Thank you,” Ianto said, and, in order to avoid becoming the topic of gossip for the next week about how he and Jack were quarreling, headed straight back.

Ianto paused in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt Jack at work on his latest “project,” a vintage motorcycle retrieved from the Torchwood vaults. 

Jack had been bringing things home a little at a time after his visits to the Hub. Small personal items at first: photos, clothing, his old journals. The service revolver, now locked in a case, at Ianto’s insistence. Then various mementoes were added to the mix, pieces from the Jack Harkness “collection” in his former office. Occasional bits of alien flotsam and jetsam made their way into the house, mostly benign and useful, and as long as Jack kept it out of the way, Ianto had no objection.

But when Jack had come roaring up their street astride the motorcycle, Ianto had put his foot down. He’d argued (quite reasonably, he thought) that it was old, in need of repair, and looked as though its drive chain would chew off the rider’s foot. Not only that, the Torchwood archives were not Jack’s personal storage, with items subject to his removal on any random whim.

“But it’s MY motorcycle,” Jack insisted. “A very dear friend left it to me in his will.”

“When was this?”

Jack looked only slightly chagrined. “Nineteen thirty-five.”

Ianto rolled his eyes.

“It’s a Brough Superior. It’s a classic!” Jack insisted. “The Rolls-Royce of motorcycles. Each one hand-crafted and custom made. You can go look it up.”

“Oh, I will,” Ianto assured him. And when he found out that the “dear friend” had, in fact, _died_ on one, the argument had persisted until Ianto had argued Jack down to riding it only when it was fully restored, only at or below the speed limit, and that he’d make every effort to keep the noise down when riding it around the city.

The best thing about the argument was that Jack thought he’d won it.

And for all that Gwen had started to refer to the motorcycle as “the other woman,” Ianto had to admit (secretly, to himself) that it was kind of nice to see Jack wrapped up in something that gave him joy and satisfaction. And the fact that Jack looked very sexy in the vest and braces with bits of motor oil smeared on him was just a positive side effect. A bonus, if you will.

Ianto enjoyed the view for a solid two minutes before Jack noticed he was there. Jack’s smile, as usual, made the irritations of the day vanish into nothing. 

“Saving the world one clogged drain at a time?” Ianto asked.

Jack frowned, and Ianto held up the tin. “From Mrs Louden,” Ianto said.

“Oh, that,” Jack said, taking the tin and opening it. “Alright. Chocolate chip.” He took one out and put it whole into his mouth. “Delicious. You know, chocolate never really caught on outside of the human race,” he said as he chewed. “Something about the way it interacts with the brain chemistry. Nestlé lost a fortune trying to expand during the Galactic Diaspora. Never really recovered.”

“Don’t eat them all,” Ianto warned. “Gwen will be here soon.”

“Right. Friday,” Jack said, returning the tin to Ianto and cleaning his hands on an already filthy rag. “Let me just tighten these last few spokes, okay?”

“I’ll see you inside,” Ianto said.

++++

“So we fish Clem out of the pool, get his clothes back on, and figure since John’s got security under control, we’d nip off to the hotel bar for a drink,” Gwen was saying. “And there behind the bar? Panoramic window view of the swimming pool!”

Ianto and Gwen laughed heartily, while Jack shook his head in amusement. 

“So then Clem turns to Lois,” Gwen said between giggles, “and says ‘Don’t retcon the redhead. I think she’s giving me the eye.’”

Jack did join in the laughter this time, so hard that Gwen had to dab at her eyes with a napkin.

“Oh, well, it’s been perfectly lovely, boys,” she said, getting to her feet. “But I need to get home. Thanks so much, and I’ll see you on Tuesday?”

“Perfect,” Ianto said.

“Let me bring the sweets next time,” she added. “Really, I can’t believe you baked.”

“I…” Ianto began, but Jack cut him off.

“That would be great, Gwen. Here, let me walk you to your car.”

“Don’t forget Elwyn’s party,” Gwen called on the way out. “Two weeks from Sunday.”

“We’ll be there with bells on,” Jack assured her.

“You could have told her the truth,” Ianto said when Jack had returned.

“Do you know how many times she’s passed off a Marks & Spencer sponge as her own?” Jack said. “Let her wonder.”

“Nice,” Ianto muttered, dumping the teacups into the sink.

Jack came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Ianto’s waist, kissed him behind the ear. Ianto hummed with pleasure, and Jack held him until the dishware had been set to dry.

++++

At 2:35 a.m. Jack’s mobile rang. Through long conditioning that was only now beginning to loosen its hold, Jack and Ianto were instantly awake.

“Who..?” Ianto asked.

“Gwen,” Jack said, flipping the mobile on. “What is it?” he asked without preamble.

“I need your help on an alien that’s just come through,” Gwen said. 

Ianto went cold. A year, now, and she’d never asked.

“Where?” Jack said instantly.

“I’ll be at your place in ten minutes,” she said, and rang off.

Jack and Ianto looked at one another.

“Well, clearly the world is not in imminent danger,” Ianto said, a little amazed at the relief that was washing over him.

“Yet it couldn’t wait ‘til morning,” Jack said, climbing out of bed and reaching for his trousers. “Color me intrigued.”

Ianto reached for the TV remote and clicked it over until he found a news report. John Frobisher was surrounded by reporters, looking as calm and unruffled as ever. Behind him was a small building that appeared to have had its roof recently caved in being tended to by several firemen.

“…one of the engines broke free of the plane’s wing and crashed into the building,” John was saying. “Luckily, the pilot was able to maintain control of his aircraft and land safely in a field a short distance from here. We are pleased to report there are no injuries, either to the pilot or here on the ground, and we expect to have the wreckage cleared before tomorrow’s morning commute.”

“Say what you want about John,” Jack said. “He’s the best liar I’ve ever hired.”

Jack failed to notice Ianto’s wince.

“Look, there’s Lois,” Jack said, pointing out where she was talking to one of the work crew while taking notes on a clipboard.

Ianto climbed out of bed, too, and started getting dressed. “I’ll go start a pot of coffee,” he said.

“Good idea,” Jack agreed, snapping off the set. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Gwen was at their doorstep twelve minutes later, a cloth-wrapped bundle in her arms. “Sorry to get you up in the middle of the night,” she said, not waiting to be asked in. “But Rupesh was at a complete loss. Let’s go through to the kitchen. We’ll want the light.”

Jack and Ianto followed her as she laid the bundle on the kitchen table and began to unwrap it. “I’m afraid it’s dying, Jack,” she said. “I thought you might know the species…”

In the middle of a bundle of towels and blankets was a humanoid creature. It was curled tightly in the fetal position, but would perhaps be two feet long if stretched out. Its skin was a leathery reddish-gold, its head disproportionally large, its fingers and toes long and slender. Its eyes were shut, but they were also large for the face and widely set, its ears were tiny cups set high on the head, and its mouth was enormous, slashing the bottom of the face in half. Its bird-like chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

“I don’t know it,” Jack said, touching the tiny creature gently. “Were there any other survivors?”

“No others at all,” Gwen said. “The craft was tiny, and Clem said it appeared to have only a rudimentary propulsion system. And this one was the only one inside.”

“It needs to be warmed up,” Jack said suddenly. Then Jack undid the buttons on his shirt, picked up the alien and tucked it inside, close to his skin.

“We wrapped it in blankets,” Gwen said. 

“That wouldn’t help,” Jack said, speaking quietly now that the alien was nestled against him. “It’s cold-blooded. Needs heat from an outside source.”

“Like a lizard?” Gwen asked.

“Don’t be bigoted,” Jack scolded. “But, yeah, like a lizard.”

“Should I get the electric heating pad?” Ianto said.

“Good idea,” Jack agreed. “Bring down one of the laundry baskets, too.”

“Is it going to be alright?” Gwen said nervously.

“I don’t know yet,” Jack said. “We don’t know how long it was in the craft or what happened to it before then. Did Rupesh have any guesses about its environmental needs?”

“As far as he could tell, it should have no problem breathing our air or drinking our water,” Gwen said.

“That’s lucky,” Ianto said, reentering the kitchen with a large wicker basket and the blanket. He set them on the counter and plugged the blanket in.

Inside Jack’s shirt, the alien began to stir, and Jack propped it up a bit on his arm. Its eyes were open, now, bright green with oblong pupils, and it regarded the three humans warily. Gwen leaned a bit closer.

“Hello,” she said warmly. “You have landed on planet Earth. My name is Gwen, and this is Ianto and Jack.”

The alien gave no response.

“I didn’t really expect that to work,” Gwen muttered.

“Let me try,” Ianto said, then spoke in the galactic standard that Jack was teaching him. “Yor nudo slee varna. Kell jan sin sal so.”

“Very lovely,” Jack said, smiling, but the alien was as unresponsive as before. Jack stood and lifted the alien down onto the warming blanket. 

“Let’s see if we can tell what happened to you,” Jack said, and he carefully extended the creature’s limbs one at a time. The alien seemed to relax down into the warmth, blinking up at Jack as he examined it. “I don’t see any obvious injuries,” Jack said after a moment. “What was the craft like that it crashed in?”

“Very basic,” Gwen said. “Minimal propulsion, no real guidance, what looked like a distress signal…”

“Lifeboat,” Jack said.

“That was Clem’s guess, as well,” Gwen agreed. “One other thing. The pilot’s chair. It seemed to be jury-rigged to accommodate a much smaller passenger than it was designed for.”

Jack stroked one finger down the side of the alien’s face. “So you’re just a kid,” he said sadly. “Marooned on Earth.”

“An alien orphan,” Ianto said. “So what do we do with it?”

“Well, we should try to figure out what it eats,” Jack said. 

“I meant more long-term.”

“I know what you meant,” Jack said. 

“Do I smell coffee?” Gwen interrupted.

Ianto refused to be distracted, even as he poured out mugs. “What sort of system do you have to take care of this sort of thing?” he said. “What’s Torchwood policy on alien refugees?”

“Torchwood policy is to murder them,” Jack said, his voice raised in anger.

Ianto stared in shock, then turned to Gwen, who was looking guilty. “I’m afraid so,” she admitted. 

“But it’s… we can’t…” 

“No, we can’t,” Jack said, then turned back to the little alien. He worried at its chin with his thumb. “Open up, there. Let’s see if we can figure out what you’re built to eat.”

With coaxing, the alien did open its mouth. The wideness of its mouth gave its face an unsettling appearance, made all the more so by neat rows, top and bottom, of needle-sharp white teeth.

“Who’s a little carnivore, then,” Jack cooed. “Ianto, get me that steak you picked up yesterday.”

Ianto removed the premium cut of meat from the icebox with a look of dismay. “Should I… heat it up?”

“No, just slice it into strips for me, could you?”

Gwen wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t it a little young for raw meat?” she said.

“It’s not a mammal,” Jack explained. “It doesn’t nurse. Its parents, or caretakers, or whatever system this species has for caring for the young would bring food to it until it’s old enough to feed itself.”

“Seems a bit detached,” Gwen said.

“It’s actually much more common,” Jack said. “Breastfeeding is a pretty specific evolutionary development, and most ecologies never tend that way. Same with cold-bloodedness. Much more efficient than dedicating so much energy just to maintaining a constant body temperature. As long as you don’t leave your planet, that is.”

Ianto handed him a paper towel piled with strips of bloody meat. Jack took one and dangled the end close to the alien’s flattened nose. Quick as a blink, the alien had grabbed the meat and stuffed it in its mouth, swallowing it whole. Jack laughed delightedly.

“Well, then,” he said. “Dinner is served.” And he fed the strips of steak to the creature as quickly as it could swallow.

Afterward, the alien rolled over and stretched out on the heating pad, seeming to doze. Jack lifted it, and the pad, carefully into the basket, then sat at the table with Gwen and Ianto. 

“I’ll bring some of Elwyn’s things by in the morning,” Gwen said. “You’ll need clothes and nappies.”

“Thank you,” Jack said.

Gwen finished her coffee and rose to put the mug in the sink. She looked down at the alien sleeping in the basket and shook her head sadly. “Poor little orphan,” she said, then turned back to Jack and Ianto. “I’ll have Lois scour the archives, and get Clem to see if he can get any information at all from the rift readings. If this little one has family looking for it, we’ll find them. I’ll make it our priority.”

“Good luck,” Ianto said, and with hugs goodbye, Gwen was gone.

“We should give it a name,” Jack said after she’d left. 

“Lillian,” Ianto said, tidying up the remains of the coffee. 

Jack frowned. “Lillian?”

“It’s a perfectly lovely name,” Ianto said. 

“How do you know she’s a girl?”

Ianto shrugged. “She looks like one, don’t you think?”

Jack regarded the sleeping alien. “I suppose,” he said. “I guess it doesn’t make a difference while she’s small. It’s possible her species doesn’t even differentiate by gender the way ours does. Lillian it is.”

“Alien Lillian,” Ianto said under his breath, though he denied it after.

++++

They decided to let the alien sleep in the basket in the kitchen, it being the warmest room in the house, and carefully tucked a towel around her and dimmed the lights. They crawled back to the bedroom and got into bed, tried to relax enough to sleep. 

That’s when they heard it. It was a sharp noise, a squeaking moan, as though someone were swinging on a rusty gate. Ianto groaned. 

“Baby alien,” he said.

“Should I bring her upstairs?” Jack said.

Ianto sat up. “I’ll get her,” he said, getting out of bed and returning a moment later with the basket. 

“I’m going to put you right here in the corner,” he said. “You’ll be able to see us.” He plugged in the heating pad and tucked in the towel, trying not to assign human emotions to the huge green eyes staring up at him, but when he started back for the bed, the creature’s piercing cries began again.

“Do you think she’s hurt?” Ianto asked Jack. 

Jack shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think she’s just… sad.”

Ianto approached the alien again, and she grew quiet, although now her eyes seemed to be pleading with him. Ianto sighed and picked her up, cradling her as Jack had done. She reached up with one long-fingered hand, weakly grasping the front of the t-shirt he slept in, and made a low rumble, like a cat’s purr. 

Ianto looked helplessly at Jack, who only lifted the blankets on the bed. 

“We’ll let her sleep with us for now,” Jack said. “She may be used to a communal sleeping arrangement, or she may just be frightened.”

“I don’t know…”

“Put yourself in her place, Ianto,” Jack said. “Scared, alone, lost. Wouldn’t you want someone to care for you?”

And Ianto, who could all too easily put himself in the little alien’s place when Jack put it that way, climbed into bed alongside him, the alien tucked against his chest. Her soft rumbling lulled him to sleep surprisingly quickly.

++++

The next day passed in a bit of a blur, as various members of Torchwood (Gwen twice) dropped by with items they thought would be helpful, and Ianto ran by the butcher, the fishmonger, and Tesco’s picking up food they thought Lillian might like. By the late afternoon they had made several discoveries about their new houseguest:

Once she’d had a good night’s sleep, she was considerably more alert and curious. She was also strong enough to sit up by herself and pick things up, although she still seemed guarded around human beings.

She was apparently still full from her dinner of steak the night before, as the chicken, mutton, sardines, and shrimp Ianto brought her held little interest. Jack was not concerned, confident she would let them know when she was hungry. 

Baby bottles were not helpful for giving her water, as the sucking instinct was not present. Sippy cups, however, did the trick.

She took immediately to wearing clothes, an issue that had concerned Ianto, suggesting that clothing was typically worn by her species. Her nappy, despite frequent checks, remained dry, suggesting further that her digestion was fairly slow. (“Which means thorough,” Jack said brightly. Ianto thought, with some dismay, that this meant there would probably be many discussions of alien toilet habits in the near future.)

She liked playing with the plastic stacking cups, blocks, toy truck, and stuffed bear. She greeted the rattles and the balls with bells inside with suspicion, and the musical busy box with cries of alarm. She bit the head off the squeaky rubber duck.

By the end of the day, she seemed to be responding to her name, or at least recognized the sound as having something to do with her. And she preferred that Ianto hold her over Jack. 

That last was a surprise, as Jack had been more tactile and affectionate with her, but Ianto pointed out that she was probably confused by their warm, soft skin, and that less might be more, at least until she got used to them. 

So far Gwen and the rest had no luck finding information about Lillian’s species or origin, but Gwen promised to keep looking. “There are lots of archives, as you know,” she said. Jack thanked her for the effort and wished her luck.

Later in the evening Lillian looked warily up at Jack and Ianto, and made a soft creaking sound. “I think it’s dinnertime,” Ianto said.

They tried a little of each of the foods they’d bought, and she ate them each with equal gusto, although much less than the night before.

“She must have been in that lifeboat awhile,” Jack said. 

“The poor thing,” Ianto said, trying unsuccessfully to tempt her with one last sardine before putting the meat back in the fridge. 

That night, they didn’t bother trying the basket, and she slept curled between them.

++++

When Ianto returned from work on Monday, the Torchwood SUV was parked out front, but Jack and Lillian were nowhere to be found. The garden shed was similarly empty. He was just about to call the Hub and see if they knew what was going on, when the front door opened and Jack entered with Clem. He was pushing what looked like a pram, if prams glowed blue, and Lillian peeked out of the top. She waved her arms when she saw Ianto.

Ianto’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline. “What is that?”

Clem patted the pram proudly. “Nice, yeah?” he said. “Whipped it up yesterday in my shed. It’s a solar-powered heated baby perambulator. Thought your little girl might want to go for a spin round the neighborhood, so this keeps her warm in this environment. Course, the styling could use a bit of work, but this is only a prototype.”

Ianto gaped, trying to process what Clem had just said and getting stuck on “his” little girl.

“She loved it,” Jack beamed. “She’s so curious about everything. When she saw the ducks at the park…”

Ianto managed to break out of his mental feedback loop. “You took her to the park?”

“Yep. She loved it,” Jack repeated.

“What did people say?”

“About what?”

“Jack! She’s an alien!” Ianto said, exasperated (in less than a minute, a new personal best for Jack, Ianto thought.)

“Ianto, how long did you work for Torchwood?” Jack said patiently. “And you’ve been Welsh your whole life. People will find a logical explanation. They’re not going to look at Lillian and think ‘alien.’ They’ll think ‘congenital defect,’ or ‘tragic accident.’ And they certainly aren’t going to draw attention to her.”

“What about Mrs Louden?” Ianto pressed. “She’s certainly going to notice we’ve a child in the house.”

“Tell her you’re looking after a child from foster care,” Clem suggested.

“She has orange skin and pointy teeth,” Ianto said, his voice becoming a little pitched.

“Special needs?” Clem said, and Ianto fixed him with a glare.

“Ianto, it will be fine,” Jack soothed. “We’ll say she has a genetic condition. We’ll make up a name…”

“Llewellyn’s Syndrome,” Clem suggested.

“Something like that,” Jack agreed. “It makes her look that way, but mentally she’s bright as a star, and seems to be happy and healthy otherwise. Believe me, people will be so relieved they’ll fawn all over her to prove they aren’t intolerant.”

Ianto looked doubtful. “I don’t know…”

“Just try it,” Jack said. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll come up with something else.”

But two days later, when Mrs Louden told him what a blessed thing he and the Captain were doing, “taking in that poor wee babe, with her unfortunate affliction,” Ianto had to admit Jack was right.

++++

Lillian learned how to crawl a week after her arrival, and a few days later could pull herself up and toddle about bipedally. Jack (with Rhys’s help) “baby-proofed” the house, and Ianto came home to find the first floor cordoned off with gates and their cabinets tied shut.

At her two-week anniversary, Rupesh stopped by for a “check-up” and informed them she’d grown two inches and gained nearly half a kilogram.

“Is that good?” Ianto asked, and Rupesh shrugged.

“She seems in good health as far as I can tell,” Rupesh said. “And gaining is better than losing at this age. She’s growing much faster than a human child, but that may be perfectly normal for her species. I’ve been trying to go through the xenobiology files to see if there’s anything similar Torchwood has encountered in the past, but there is very little in the literature that I’ve found. How much is she eating?”

“About six to eight ounces of raw meat a day, usually at one meal in the evening,” Jack told him.

“Have you been varying her diet?”

“Trying to,” Ianto said, feeling a pang of guilt at the time the previous week when he forgot to go to the shops and had fed her chicken two days in a row.

“What about her eliminations?” Rupesh asked.

“Once every day or two,” Jack said. “Since she doesn’t eat that much, I figured that was okay.”

“What’s the consistency?”

“Small, dry, dark,” Jack said frowning. “Is that bad?”

“I honestly haven’t the faintest idea,” Rupesh said. “In my best judgment, though, I would say she’s probably fine and normal. But watch her carefully for signs of distress, and give me a call if there are any changes.”

“Will do,” Jack said.

“And speaking of growing children,” Rupesh said, handing Lillian to Ianto to re-diaper and dress, “are you going to Gwen’s Birthday party for Elwyn on Sunday?”

“We were planning to,” Ianto said.

“What are you getting for a gift? I’m completely at a loss,” Rupesh said.

Ianto worked Lillian’s long hands through the sleeves on her jumper while she squeaked happily. “We got her two dresses, one yellow and one pink,” Ianto said. “Shop called Precious Little Things in city centre.” 

“And a plush turtle,” Jack added.

Rupesh made a frustrated sound. “She’s one,” he said. “She won’t know or care what she gets. Gwen, on the other hand…”

“Look, it’s very simple,” Ianto said, pulling socks over Lillian’s feet. “You go into the poshest baby boutique you can find and buy the cutest thing you see. Then you open your wallet and give the clerk all your money. Everybody’s happy.”

Jack stepped over to Ianto and plucked Lillian out of his arms. “Why don’t you join us for our walk,” Jack said. “There are a few shops around the neighborhood, we could help you find something.” 

Rupesh turned to Jack with an expression something like adoration. “That would be great,” he said.

++++

Elwyn’s birthday party was not exactly a madhouse, but close, with Williams and Cooper relations, friends and neighbors, plus Torchwood crammed into Gwen and Rhys’s flat, but everyone seemed to have a good time. Gwen oohed and aahed over the lovely gifts, including a beautiful hand-knitted blanket from Rhys’s mother, and Elwyn was passed around from lap to lap. There was quite a bit of interest in Lillian, too, though Ianto never let her out of his grip. Then there was ice cream and cake.

Gwen walked Jack and Ianto to the door as they left, finally convincing Ianto to let her hold Lillian. “She looks good,” she told them. “She’s grown so much.”

“Any luck on finding where she came from?” Ianto asked, though it was just force of habit, now.

“Nothing,” Gwen said. “But Lois has started going outside the official channels, making inquiries with some of the tin hat societies. I know most of them are mad,” she added at Ianto’s disapproving look, “but you never know. Thought it was worth a few emails.”

“We’ll just have to look into moving to a warmer climate,” Jack joked as he took Lillian back from Gwen. 

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Gwen said. “Clem is working on self-warming clothes.”

“Brilliant,” Ianto said, and rolled his eyes.

++++

**October**

Lillian became more mobile, and her motor and cognitive skills improved dramatically. She began to express a preference about what she ate, and when she was tired, she would take herself to bed, turning on the heating pad and snuggling under a blanket.

She outgrew the laundry basket, so Jack brought home a child-sized bed and set it up in the spare bedroom. Lillian seemed to like it, and it gave Jack and Ianto a bit of privacy back, although it was different having to keep one ear out for the sound of tiny footsteps. More than once the little alien had come into the bedroom in the middle of the night, making her strange creaking cries until Jack and Ianto had settled her between them.

Clem built her a heated stroller, and Jack or Ianto, or both when they could, would take her for walks in the park and around the neighborhood. They soon became a well-known sight, and Lillian was often greeted warmly by the shop clerks and passers-by. Her appearance continued to attract no untoward comment, except among other children, who were quickly reprimanded by their parents. In fact, the blue-glowing stroller drew more interest than the child in it, and Ianto thought Clem could leave Torchwood at any time to make an excellent living at Silver Cross. 

++++

Ianto returned home from work and turned the key in the front door lock, only to feel the door pulled open and Jack pull him inside. This wasn’t uncommon, at least it hadn’t been before Lillian, and Ianto’s first hopeful thought was that Jack had gotten a babysitter for the afternoon. 

Instead, Jack led him to the kitchen, nearly quivering with excitement. “I had an idea about Lillian,” he said. “Now that she’s getting bigger. In her society, she’d probably be beginning to feed herself.”

“Makes sense,” Ianto said.

They entered the kitchen, where Lillian was buckled in her highchair. She waved her arms when she saw Ianto and made what Ianto thought of as her “happy noise,” a rapid series of high-pitched squeaks. Ianto smiled in spite of himself.

“So I went by the pet shop,” Jack was saying, and Ianto, momentarily distracted with playing with Lillian, took a second to catch up.

“I’m sorry, you what?” He turned around to see Jack holding a small plastic tub. Inside, a white mouse ran in frantic circles.

“Watch this,” Jack said, grinning, and he picked the mouse up by the tail.

Even though Ianto immediately knew what was coming, he felt paralyzed as he watched Jack drop the mouse onto the highchair tray and Lillian, quick as a cat, snatch it up and pop it into her mouth. She swallowed it whole.

“Good girl!” Jack said. “Wonderful job!”

Ianto recoiled, stumbling against the door jamb. “Oh, God, I’m going to be sick,” he groaned. Jack came immediately to his side and half-steered, half-manhandled him into one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Lean over,” Jack said. “Head down. That’s right. Deep breaths, Ianto.” He rubbed one hand back and forth across Ianto’s shoulders. In her high chair, Lillian began creaking in distress, and Jack stepped away. Ianto could hear him soothing the little alien, murmuring reassurance.

And here came the shame; Ianto could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Lillian was only doing what Jack had taught her, probably something that was perfectly natural on her world, and here he’d frightened her. Ianto took a deep breath and sat up. 

Jack had picked Lillian up and was bouncing her in his arms, talking to her quietly. When she saw Ianto she reached towards him, so he reached back for her. Jack settled her in Ianto’s lap, and she stroked her long fingers down the slick fabric of his tie. 

“I’m sorry,” Ianto said quietly, cupping the back of Lillian’s head. “I just had a bad turn for a moment. I’m okay now.”

Lillian gave a soft, contented creak.

++++

Rupesh had insisted on coming by to give Lillian another check-up shortly after Jack had bragged to Gwen about her predatory skills. 

“She’s gained about 700 grams,” Rupesh said, reading the display on the alien scanner mat. “Her metabolism doesn’t appear significantly different from the baseline readings I took when she first arrived. How long has she been eating…” He trailed off.

“Since last Wednesday,” Ianto said. 

“We’re trying to keep it varied,” Jack said. “More of a supplement to her usual diet. But she seems to prefer live food.”

“What sorts of…”

“Mice,” Ianto said. “And goldfish. And yesterday we found a source for chicks, so we’re trying that this week.”

“And her eliminations?”

“Um… lighter… in color,” Ianto said.

“I think that’s from the calcium,” Jack offered cheerfully. “You know, all those little bones.”

“Yes, that’s probably it,” Rupesh agreed. He reached into his bag, pulled out a small plastic container, and handed it to Jack. “If you could do me a favor. I’d like you to bring one of her stool samples by the Hub in the next day or two. Just so I can get an idea of how her digestion works.”

“No problem,” Jack said, setting the tub on the counter by the sink. Rupesh picked Lillian up and handed her to Jack.

“She’s growing much faster than a human child,” Rupesh said, “but about the same rate as some other large animals, so no reason to be concerned. As for her diet… I think we should follow her lead. If she shows a preference for a certain food, give her more of it. Her body will tell her the nutrients she needs.”

“Got it,” Jack said, putting Lillian back into her clothes.

Rupesh repacked his bag and turned to Ianto. “Would you mind seeing me out?” he said, and Ianto led him to the front porch.

“How are you coping with this?” he asked when they were out of Jack’s earshot. “Jack seems to be taking it in stride, but…”

“Well, you know Jack,” Ianto said. “Nothing fazes him.”

“You both seem to be bonding with her, and that’s good,” Rupesh said. 

“That’s the weird thing,” Ianto said. “I almost threw up the first time Jack fed her a live mouse. And the next day, I had to have a couple of lagers just to brace myself, because I thought I should be there to encourage her. But I am… proud of her. Isn’t that mad?”

“Every parent wants their child to be self-sufficient,” Rupesh said.

“I’m not her parent.”

“As far as she’s concerned, you are,” Rupesh said. “You and Jack. You feed her, shelter her. You comfort her when she’s distressed.”

“But she’s so… alien.” Ianto frowned. “Can we really become attached like that?”

“You already have. I watched her as I examined her. She kept an eye on you or Jack the entire time. She depends on you.”

Ianto shook his head. “Daddy to an orange lizard-girl,” he said. “This is going to be a problem when she starts dating.”

“It’s a big responsibility,” Rupesh said seriously. “She only has you two.”

“But what if we’re doing it all wrong?” Ianto said. “We’re raising her to be a human child, but what if that makes her an alien on her own world? What if she can’t fit in when she goes back?”

Rupesh looked away uncomfortably. Ianto guessed why immediately.

“I take it that’s not going well,” he said.

“We’re trying, Ianto. We really are. Every spare minute. Clem and I have even taken apart her lifeboat, looking for any clues. But there’s nothing.”

Ianto gave a resigned sigh “So she’s here,” he said. “This changes things.” 

“Do you…”

“I need to think about this,” Ianto cut him off. “Talk it over with Jack. We’ll call if we need anything.”

“Very good,” Rupesh said. “Have a nice evening.”

When Ianto came back to the living room, Jack was in their rocking chair, Lillian sprawled in his lap. Her eyes were half closed, but watching Ianto as he entered and sat on the floor near them. Jack rocked back and forth slowly, crooning a lullaby from his own world. Ianto had learned enough of Jack’s native language to pick out the meaning, but Jack had told him what the words meant long ago.

“Noo vasht soo koloon, suvia. Ta lana vall shan tanda. Oyana va sono sho sana, meena sa sha vee.”

_The moon is on the water, my child. The waves roll to the sand. I am with you through the darkness, I will watch over you._

++++

Ianto glanced over from brushing his teeth and noticed Rupesh’s plastic container sitting on the back of the toilet tank. It had already been sealed. 

“I see you got a sample,” Ianto called to Jack, who was in the shower. 

“Yeah, I thought I could run it by later this morning,” Jack said. “Check in, see what’s going on.”

“Who’s going to look after Lillian?”

“I was going to take her with me.”

“No, I don’t think you should do that,” Ianto said.

Jack looked out from behind the shower curtain. “Why not?”

“I don’t want you taking her there,” Ianto said.

The shower turned off, and Jack stepped out, reaching for a towel. “They’d all love to see her,” he said. “And there’s so much there for her to see. How many kids get to see a real, live pterosaur?”

“No way, Jack,” Ianto said, his voice sharp, now. “That’s no place for her. We don’t know how much she understands, or remembers. I don’t want her seeing any of that!”

An apprehensive squeak came from the doorway, and Ianto and Jack looked over to see Lillian weaving back and forth, watching them. Jack wrapped the towel around his waist. 

“We shouldn’t fight in front of her,” he said, crouching down and reaching towards her. “It’s okay, Lillian,” he soothed. “Sometimes grownups have disagreements. It doesn’t mean we don’t love each other.”

Lillian shifted her gaze to Ianto, who nodded solemnly. “That’s right,” he said. “Jack and I just got a little… heated. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Lillian shifted her gaze back and forth between them, still rocking from foot to foot. Ianto leaned down beside Jack, and impulsively tipped Jack’s face up for a kiss. He heard Lillian begin to coo contentedly, and when he looked up, she had come closer. With a solemn expression, she reached out and put one hand on each of their hands. Jack broke into a smile.

“Yes, see, it’s okay,” Jack said. He stood and lifted Lillian with him. “How about we brush your teeth and put on your purple jumper and corduroy trousers,” he said.

Ianto picked up the sample container. “I’ll run this by for Rupesh,” he said, and headed for the bedroom to dress.

++++

It had been almost a year and a half since Ianto had been to the Hub. He’d even managed to avoid this part of town. He didn’t even consider the lift, and instead headed for the empty tourist office. Nothing had changed since he left, except perhaps for a few more layers of dust. Still, it was weird coming back. More than weird.

He didn’t bother with the bell. He knew they’d seen him coming, had probably been watching since he turned down the street. And there, down the corridor, he heard the shielded door roll open.

The scent of damp came to him on the draft that rose up from underneath. Damp and the unique scent of Torchwood: chemicals and weevils and blood. And Ianto knew he really didn’t want to be here. 

“I’m leaving this for Rupesh on the counter,” he shouted. “Unless you want some alien turds moldering in here, I’d suggest you send someone to fetch it.”

He felt like he couldn’t get out fast enough.

Gwen caught up with him at the car. “Ianto, sweetheart,” she said, then seemed at a loss for how to go on.

“I’m late for work,” Ianto said.

Gwen put a hand on his arm. “Are you alright?”

Ianto bit back a retort. Gwen didn’t deserve it. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “I need to go.” 

And he drove off, leaving her standing alone, watching him go.

++++

Ianto couldn’t concentrate at all. He hadn’t thought going back to Torchwood would have affected him at all, but still, hours later, he felt like adrenaline was racing through his body. So much had happened in that place, good and bad, that it simply couldn’t be neutral in his mind. 

Still, he was glad Jack hadn’t taken Lillian there. 

His mobile rang, and Ianto flipped it open. “Good morning, Jack,” he said.

“Hello, sexy,” came Jack’s voice. “No pressure, but any chance you’ll work the hours you were hired for?”

Ianto looked at the pile of correspondence in his in-bin, neglected while he spent the morning on the phone begging the assistant dean for any kind of help to do the things that were required but which Ianto didn’t have the authority for. _Fuck it,_ he thought. _It’s not like they can fire me._

“Yes, I think there’s a strong possibility of that,” he said, glancing at Mrs Lacy, the secretary, who watched him like a hawk, and always frowned disapprovingly at personal calls. 

“See you soon, then. I’m making Monte Cristos for lunch since you skipped breakfast.”

“Sounds glorious,” Ianto said, ringing off.

_And it’s not like I care if they do,_ he added in his head.

++++

Jack greeted Ianto at the door with a martini and a kiss that curled his toes. Sometimes, the fact that Jack seemed to have learned about domestic customs from 1950s comedies paid off in very satisfying ways. He settled Ianto into an easy chair, propped his feet on the ottoman, loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt in about three seconds, then grinned slyly. 

“I’ve a surprise for you,” Jack said. “We do. Lillian and I. Well, mostly Lillian.”

Ianto looked over to the doorway where the little alien was showing her teeth in what they understood was her best approximation of a smile. “Really?” Ianto said, encouraging. “What is it?”

“Lillian,” Jack said, still grinning. “Who is this?”

Lillian took a deep breath, then sang out, “Ianto!”

Ianto let out a bubble of laughter, while Jack said, “that’s right! What a clever girl!”

“Ianto!” Lillian repeated, coming to him and climbing into his lap. “Ianto, Ianto, Ianto!”

“She has your accent!” Ianto said, laughing harder now. 

“Well, I am the primary caregiver,” Jack said, sounding very pleased with himself.

“And who is this?” Ianto said, pointing to Jack.

“Jack!” Lillian said, bouncing excitedly, then pointed to herself and said, “Lily! Lily!”

“She’s having a bit of trouble, there,” Jack said. “But she’ll get it.”

“I like the name Lily, too,” Ianto said. 

“She’s learned a few other words, too,” Jack said. “Water and cup and ball.”

Lillian looked around the room. “Ball?” she said. “Ball? Now?”

“What happened to ‘please?’” Ianto said, as Jack fetched her ball from behind the rocker.

“Please ball now,” Lillian said, taking it from him. 

“Such a clever little girl,” Jack cooed, perching himself on the arm of Ianto’s chair. 

Lillian put one hand on each of their hands, and Ianto completely forgot about Torchwood.

++++

By the time Gwen stopped by the next evening for her biweekly visit, Lillian had learned the names of all of the furniture and her toys, a handful of verbs and adjectives, and was stringing together simple sentences of three or four words. 

“This is absolutely amazing,” Gwen said, watching Lillian and Jack chatter to each other. Jack had been keeping a running commentary of everything he did, introducing Lillian to new words as he went, and the little alien would repeat individual words back, pointing to the objects or mimicking the action with her hands. 

“Kettle. Blue. Spoon. Sink. Wash up. Teabags,” she said, standing beside him. 

“And you say she’s only been talking since yesterday?” 

Ianto nodded, pouring more cream into the cream pitcher. “Yes. Once she got started there was no stopping her. It’s like the dam burst.”

“It’s just not possible,” Gwen said. “This sort of progress should take months. Elwyn’s only at the babbling stage right now.”

“You’re thinking of her as a human child,” Jack said. “She’s not. Her species could have a much larger verbal cortex. They may just develop faster. She may have understood English for weeks and only now has the fine motor skills to speak it.”

“Thinking. Human. Species. Verbal cortex. Develop. English. Motor. Speak,” Lillian repeated. 

“Good girl,” Jack said, and Lillian bared her teeth at him. 

“Maybe she’s telepathic,” Gwen said. 

“I don’t think so,” Jack said thoughtfully. “I’ve known a lot of telepaths, and she doesn’t show the signs.”

“Telepathic. Signs,” Lillian said.

“It is a little creepy, though,” Ianto said, earning him a glare from Jack.

“It’s alien,” Jack corrected. “But as far as we know, it’s perfectly normal.”

“Alien. Normal,” Lillian said.

“Exactly,” Jack said with a grin.

“Well, I’d like Rupesh to come by again, if that’s okay,” Gwen said. “Maybe we can get some developmental milestones charted. See just how quickly she’s advancing.”

“Fine,” Jack said.

“Also, Clem has been examining the beacon on her lifeboat,” Gwen went on. “It’s continued transmission even after the crash, but we still don’t know its point of origin.”

Jack lifted Lillian up onto his hip. “It’s about time for her bath,” he said. “I’ll see you next week, Gwen.”

They heard Lillian chirp “Time. Bath. Week.” as he carried her down the hall and up the stairs.

“I’m sorry about that,” Gwen said. “I have to remember that she might be understanding everything I say.”

“We just want to protect her for now,” Ianto said. “Even if she can talk, she still seems to have a child’s comprehension. She’s not ready to understand that she’s the only one of her kind on Earth.”

Gwen gave him a sympathetic look. “The poor little thing,” she said. “Still and all, she’s very lucky to have you and Jack looking after her.”

“I feel lucky, too,” Ianto said. 

“Also, I’m sorry about what happened yesterday,” Gwen said. “I should have come up to meet you. I know how you feel about…”

“Forget it. It’s not important,” Ianto said. “It’s just… having Lillian here, I’m finding myself looking at Torchwood’s mission in a… less sympathetic light.”

“I know,” Gwen said. “And we have been trying to change that.” 

Ianto stood and began clearing the dishes away. “I appreciate that, Gwen,” he said. “I do.”

“I’ll see myself out, then,” Gwen said, rising. “See you next week. I’ll ring and let you know when. And when Rupesh can come round, too.”

“That will be fine.”

When Ianto heard the front door shut, he left the cups in the sink and went up to the bathroom. He could hear Jack and Lillian continuing to talk back and forth, mixed with the vigorous splashing Lillian usually engaged in while taking a bath. The bathroom door was open, so Ianto watched them from the doorway. Jack knelt beside the tub, sleeves rolled up and barefoot, braces hanging loose, while he doused Lillian over and over with water poured from a plastic stacking cup. 

Lillian was waving her arms excitedly, and with each splash of water she let out an ascending-toned squeal that they had decided was her version of laughter. 

“Here comes the wave!” Jack said. “It’s going to wash the soapsuds out to sea!”

“Splash me!” Lillian cried, and when Jack did, she “laughed” again.

Ianto started laughing himself, and Jack joined in. He lifted Lillian to standing in the tub, and reached for a towel. 

“Now who’s ready for a story?” Jack said.

“I am!” Lillian and Ianto both said at once.


	2. Part Two: Late Autumn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The baby alien grows and learns. Jack and Ianto make adjustments.

**November**

Within a week, Lillian was clearly communicating with Jack and Ianto. She told them when she was hungry, or sleepy, or cold. She asked for particular stories to be told to her at bedtime (Jack’s tales of his travels with the Doctor were favorites, as were Ianto’s stories of his childhood and family.) She would ask for certain toys, or to be taken out for a walk. She could also follow instructions, a major milestone, according to Gwen and Rupesh. 

Clem still hadn’t worked out the problem of self-heating clothing, so as the weather got cooler, Ianto and Jack had to be careful to only let Lillian out of her stroller on days that were sunny and unseasonably warm, lest the cooler temperatures put her to sleep right in the middle of the playground. 

And Ianto was finding himself less and less interested in his work at the University. 

In fact, this afternoon a student sat across from him while he explained that the deadline for dropping classes had passed. “If you drop the class now, you’ll receive an incomplete grade,” he said patiently. 

“You don’t understand, Mr Jones,” the girl said. “This class isn’t what I thought it was, and I just can’t pass it with all my other classes.”

Ianto sighed. “Have you spoken to your advisor about finding ways to better budget your time? For instance, I notice you’re on three different extracurricular committees…”

“I can’t drop those, they’re counting on me,” the student protested. “You have to get me out of this class, Mr Jones. You just have to!”

_I don’t have to do anything,_ Ianto thought, _except make sure Lillian gets fed every night._

“Miss Simmons,” Ianto said. “I’m sure you think special exceptions should be made in your situation, but you were perfectly free to withdraw from the course during the first six weeks of term. If you withdraw now, you will have to take an incomplete. I’m sorry, but we do have certain standards.”

Ianto watched the young woman’s eyes fill with tears and her bottom lip start to wobble.

_Oh, sweetheart,_ he thought, _I’ve shot aliens in the face. I’m not about to be moved by a sophomore who can’t plan ahead._

“So what should I do?” the girl nearly wailed.

“That’s up to you, Miss Simmons. But those are your options.”

The student pulled herself together and shouldered her rucksack, and with as much dignity as she could muster, stalked out of the Dean’s office.

Ianto grabbed his mobile and fled to the kitchenette, dialing Jack as he went.

“If I never have to hear about the problems of nineteen-year-old girls again, I can die a happy man,” he said when Jack had answered.

“Sorry to hear that,” Jack said. “Why don’t you come home and let me give you a nice backrub?”

Ianto groaned in frustration. “I can’t tell you how tempting that is right now.”

Over the line he could hear Lillian saying something to Jack, but couldn’t quite make out the words. 

“What did she say?”

“She wants you to come home, too, and take her to the park,” Jack said. “It’s gorgeous weather, and before long it will be too cold for her.”

Ianto pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache he knew was coming. _Why do I have to be so reliable?_ he thought, and the reasons for quitting started to add up on his mental tally sheet. 

“Let me just clear some paperwork off my desk,” he said. “Two hours, at the most.”

“See you soon,” Jack said, and rang off.

Ianto sighed heavily, got himself a mug of coffee and headed back for his office. As he got there the desk phone was ringing. He lifted the receiver. “Dean’s office,” he said. 

“Who is this?” said a strange voice on the line.

Ianto bit back the “You called me” that was on the tip of his tongue. “Ianto Jones, I’m the office assistant,” Ianto said.

“Sorry, wrong number.” And the line went dead. 

Ianto replaced the receiver and stared a good two minutes at the pile of papers in his in-bin. The desk phone rang again. Ianto picked it up. “Dean’s office.”

“Mr Jones, this is Angela Robinson, in the pre-med program. I want to talk to you about my mid-term marks…”

Ianto squeezed his eyes shut. “You’ll need to make an appointment for Wednesday,” he said. “I’m on my way out right now.”

++++

Ianto entered the front door and could hear Jack and Lillian in the kitchen. He passed through to find the little alien drawing with crayons while Jack tinkered with some motorcycle part. 

“I thought you were coming home later,” Jack said, standing to give Ianto a kiss. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“We go to the playground now?” Lillian said.

“Let Ianto catch his breath,” Jack told her. “Have you had lunch? I could make you something.”

“No, I grabbed a sandwich about an hour ago,” Ianto said. “But the playground sounds lovely. Let me just get changed.”

“Yayy!” Lillian cheered, sliding down from the chair and heading for where her coat hung from a wooden peg near the back door.

“He said he had to change,” Jack called to her, and she flung the coat to the floor with a pout.

“Lillian, you pick up your coat until Ianto is ready to go, or you won’t be going at all.”

Lillian gave a theatrical sigh, but replaced the coat. 

“That was dramatic,” Ianto said.

“She gets it from you,” Jack said, turning his attention back to his tinkering. “I caught her trying to roll her eyes the other day.”

Lillian came over to Ianto and pushed his legs. “Go change!” she demanded, and Ianto laughed. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. 

“Lillian, what have we said about being bossy?” he heard Jack say as he ascended the stairs to change.

++++

It was sunny and warm as Ianto pushed Lillian in her stroller, unusual for Cardiff at this time of year, but welcome. The trees had lost most of their leaves by this time, and crunched underfoot as they walked. There were a handful of other children about Lillian’s— _well, not age,_ Ianto thought. _Approximate size and level of development, I suppose—_ and their mothers at the playground when they arrived, and several of the women recognized Lillian. 

“You must be the Captain’s, um…” one of the women greeted Ianto as he made sure Lillian was bundled into her coat.

“Yes, I’m Ianto,” Ianto said. 

“We see Jack and Lillian here all the time,” the woman said. “I’m Gwyneth.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ianto said, then leaned close to Lillian and said into her ear, “if you start to feel tired, come right back, okay?”

“Okay,” Lillian said, and bolted off to play.

Ianto and Gwyneth sat together, watching the children. “That one’s mine,” Gwyneth said. “In the red. Barry.”

Ianto looked over to see a boy with curly black hair turning in circles around one of the metal poles supporting the swing set. 

“Good looking lad,” Ianto said politely. _Headed for a career in Parliament, I’m sure._

“Your Lillian is a charming girl,” Gwyneth said. “Such a bright little thing.”

“Thank you,” Ianto said. “She amazes us constantly.”

“I shouldn’t wonder. You and Jack have done miracles with her. She seems very well-adjusted, despite…”

“We try,” Ianto demurred, watching now as Lillian climbed the ladder to the sliding board. 

“It’s no big deal for the children, of course,” Gwyneth went on. “At this age, they’re still discovering all the amazing things in the world, and really haven’t learned prejudice. To them, just because a person looks different, it’s no reason to think badly of them. But some people, they can be cruel, and you need to make sure your children have the self-esteem to deal with those sorts of things…”

Ianto lost sight of Lillian for a moment, and when she re-emerged from behind the equipment he could see her stepping over the boundary at the edge of the playground. 

“Excuse me,” Ianto said, crossing the playground as Lillian wandered towards the trees a few yards beyond. “Lillian!” he called. “Don’t run off!”

He caught up with her near a stand of evergreens, taking hold of her shoulder and turning her to him. “Lillian, didn’t you hear me?”

And then he stumbled back, horrified, as he saw brown feathers disappear down Lillian’s throat.

“Lillian,” he managed to whisper. “Did you just eat a bird?”

“Yes,” Lillian said, her voice very small.

“Why did you do that?”

“I saw it, and I caught it,” she said. “I was hungry.”

“You mustn’t do that,” Ianto scolded her. “What if someone were to see you? You can’t draw attention to yourself like that!”

Lillian stared up at him, her eyes wide. Then she began to make the sharp creaking moans that Ianto hadn’t heard since she had first come to them, a sound of utter misery.

Ianto fell to his knees beside her and tried to gather her into a hug. “Oh, Lillian, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” She tried to push him away, her cries rising in intensity. Ianto lifted her up and headed back for the stroller, noticing Gwyneth and the other mothers regarding him sympathetically.

“Sorry,” he said to Gwyneth. “Bit of a meltdown.” He managed to get Lillian into the stroller and headed back for home. Within a few minutes she had settled into soft, low creaks, but she still didn’t respond to his apologies.

When they arrived home, she climbed out of her stroller and preceded him into the house, running to where Jack was laying a fire in the fireplace and throwing herself into his lap, all desolation once more. Jack looked up at Ianto, his face stricken. “Oh, God, what happened?”

“Just a massive cock-up in the parenting department,” Ianto said miserably, dropping into a chair. “Lillian ate a bird at the park, and I freaked out at her.”

Jack turned his attention back to Lillian, shushing her and stroking the back of her head. “Shh, shh, easy, now,” he said. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the little alien croaked out between creaking wails, and Ianto could feel his heart breaking.

“Ianto, could you get her a cup of water, please?” Jack said, and Ianto welcomed the excuse to flee the room. He took a few minutes himself to get collected in the kitchen, seeking out Lillian’s favorite cup specifically. When he returned to the living room, Lillian had quieted down, letting Jack hold her in his lap in the rocking chair. Ianto handed her the cup and she took it in both hands, sipping the water delicately until it was gone.

Ianto took the empty cup back from her. “Thank you,” she said.

Jack gave Lillian a little squeeze. “I was just about to make a fire,” he said. “Get you both warmed up, okay? Do you want to sit with Ianto?”

Lillian gave a nod, and Ianto started breathing again. Jack stood and placed Lillian in his arms, and Ianto lowered himself into the rocker. “I’m sorry,” Lillian said again.

“I’m sorry, too,” Ianto said. “It’s just… you…”

“We need to know what you’re eating,” Jack said, smoothly intercepting the conversation. “You need to eat here at home, where we know the food is good for you. You don’t see Ianto and I eating things at the park, do you?”

Lillian considered this. “No.”

“There you go,” Jack said. “The birds outside… they aren’t good for you to eat. I’m sure you’ll be okay this one time, but if you get hungry, let Ianto or me know, and we’ll bring you home and feed you.”

Lillian nodded gravely. “Okay,” she said, and leaned into Ianto, stroking his arm lightly.

“Thank you,” Ianto mouthed over Lillian’s head.

Jack smiled down at them both, then knelt to get the fire lit. When it was blazing brightly, he took the lap quilt from the sofa and spread it on the hearth. Wordlessly he beckoned Ianto and Lillian to join him, and they did, Ianto with his head in Jack’s lap, and Lillian stretched out alongside to take in the warmth on both sides.

++++

Later, in bed, Ianto brought the incident up again. “Thanks for handling that,” Ianto said. “You’re brilliant.”

“I know,” Jack said, only half-joking, then added, “caught a bird all by herself, did she? Incredible. What must her species be like when they mature? As smart and quick as she is already? They must be completely nonviolent, or I’m sure I’d have known about them. They’d be formidable if they ever turned to conquest, right there with the Sontarans, or the Judoon.”

“She’s already standing out,” Ianto said. “One of the mothers at the park was going on about it.”

“That’s how parents are,” Jack said, pulling Ianto into his arms. “Always comparing their children to everyone else’s. Making sure theirs is smarter, or bigger, or better-looking. ‘When did yours start talking? How many teeth does she have?’ It’s all a big competition.”

“We have to protect her, Jack,” Ianto said, a little breathless as Jack began to kiss him in earnest. “People are going to start noticing she’s not human.”

“They haven’t yet,” Jack said. 

“But we don’t know how long that will last,” Ianto said. “What about school? Physically and mentally she should be ready to start soon. Do we send her?”

“Of course not,” Jack said.

“Why not?” Ianto said. “Shouldn’t she have friends her own… other children? Peers? And what if she starts changing? Her species could be nine feet tall as adults. She could grow extra limbs, develop extraordinary powers.”

“I don’t think that’s very likely.”

“But we don’t know. And what if we’re never able to contact her homeworld? We have to be realistic. What will she do? Get a job in a shop or an office? Marry the nice boy from down the block?”

“Ianto, Ianto,” Jack soothed. “She’ll be alright. We’ll look after her …”

“They will take her away,” Ianto blurted out. 

“I won’t let that happen,” Jack said firmly.

“Then what will happen to her? Will she be another prisoner of Torchwood?”

“Ianto, you are thinking of this like a twenty-first century man,” Jack said, sounding a little amused now, which irritated Ianto no end. 

“Well how am I supposed to think about it?”

“Trust me, Ianto. We will deal with these problems when they happen.” He pulled Ianto back into his arms, kissing him gently again. “Now, are we going to disprove the stereotypes about what happens to romance once you have kids?”

And Ianto, knowing they weren’t going to solve his concerns tonight, tried to put them out of his mind.

++++

The next morning Lillian announced she could use the toilet, same as Jack and Ianto, and didn’t have to wear nappies any more. 

“We’ll go to the shop and buy you some panties, then,” Jack told her.

And that was sorted, much to Gwen’s exasperation when she heard about it.

++++

Ianto was finally doing what he felt was his actual job, filing, when he was summoned to the office of Mr Lambert, the assistant dean. He’d been hoping the meeting was to inform him they were hiring some more office help, but it was clear within a few seconds that was not to be the case.

Instead, he was lectured about the need to “pitch in”, “step up”, and “take initiative.” And when Ianto pointed out that he was being asked to perform duties well outside his job description, and to work many more hours than he’d anticipated when he’d taken the job, he was told to “work on his attitude.” 

Lambert’s parting comment that Ianto should “consider this a warning,” was just the inspiration Ianto needed to walk right past the half-organized filing cabinet and out to his car.

Climbing out of the car in the driveway, Ianto could hear the strains of the Duke Ellington Orchestra emanating from the garden shed (and how curious to have absorbed the collected hits of the Big Band Era in the past few years, he considered as he went to join Jack and Lillian.) As he got closer he could hear the two of them singing along,

_It makes no difference_  
If it's sweet or hot  
Just give that rhythm  
Everything you've got  
It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing  
Doo wah do wah do wah do wah do wah do wah do wah… 

And any lingering traces of remorse over walking out of his office dissolved.

Inside the shed, Lillian sat right in front of the electric heating fan that kept out the chill. She held a large pair of vice grips in both hands, steadying the rotor as Jack threaded the drive chain through. Jack gave him a dazzling smile. 

“I’m coming into the homestretch, I think,” Jack said. “She should be roadworthy in the next few weeks. And Clem has a line on a sidecar for Lillian.” 

Ianto gave an equally broad grin. “Over my dead body,” he said.

Jack gave him a look that Ianto knew meant, ‘we’ll see, once the Harkness magic has had time to work.’ Luckily, Ianto had been building up immunity.

“Just so you know,” Ianto said, changing the subject. “I may not have my position at the University much longer.”

“Can’t say I’m too broken up over that,” Jack said, picking up a needle-nose pliers and fishing for the chain. “It’s making you crazy and it’s not like we need the money.”

“I know,” Ianto said, then sighed. “I just hate the thought of being sacked.”

“So quit first. Okay, you can let go now, Lillian. Thank you.”

“I do have this morbid curiosity about seeing how this plays out,” Ianto said. “For all Lambert’s posturing, I don’t see how he can run the office without me. He’ll see that once he’s cooled down.”

“It’s up to you,” Jack said, in a tone that made his own negative opinion quite clear. “Hand me one of those long bolts, please.” 

The CD player went from one song to the next, and for a moment the only sound was the click-click-click of Jack’s socket wrench. 

“Ianto,” Lillian said as “In a Sentimental Mood” began to play. “Who is my mommy?”

Jack and Ianto both snapped their heads up and locked gazes. 

“What brings this on?” Ianto asked, as Jack gave a slow, worried shake of his head.

“The other children at the park, they all have mommies and daddies. I have a Jack and a Ianto. Should I call you mommy and daddy?”

Jack gave a small snort, earning him a glare from Ianto. “No, sweetheart,” he said. “Mommy and daddy… they’re titles. You know how some people call Jack ‘Captain?’ It’s a little like that. Different names for the same thing.”

Lillian considered this. “Can I call you mommy and daddy, if I want to?”

Jack looked at Ianto, curious at what he’d say. “If you want to…” Ianto said. “Do you?”

“Not right now,” Lillian said after a moment. “Maybe later.”

Later, alone with Ianto, Jack offered to be “mommy” if it ever came to that. 

++++

**December**

True to Ianto’s prediction, within two days Assistant Dean Lambert was offering to “work with” Ianto to “best resolve the issues to the benefit of the entire university.” Ianto still wasn’t sure how this was any different from what they were already doing, but he promised Jack that if nothing had changed by the start of the new year, he’d gladly walk away. 

For all that autumn was warm, the last month of the year brought a shocking cold snap, and until Clem managed to perfect the self-heating clothes, Lillian was confined to short walks only in her stroller. At home, she was filled with energy, always wanting to be near Jack or Ianto, asking questions and wanting to “help” with whatever they were doing, or even just snuggling close when they were resting. 

Ianto also noticed that she was almost intuitively seeking out sources of heat, choosing to play near the fireplace or the heat registers when she could. When this was pointed out to Jack, he posited that she had probably not evolved for a cold climate, and her instincts were compensating for the drop in temperature.

Ianto chose to believe that Lillian’s increasing affection towards the two warm-blooded members of their makeshift little family was unrelated to this theory.

++++

“Have you made any plans yet for Christmas this year?” Gwen asked during one of her visits. Jack and Ianto, both seated at the table with Lillian in Jack’s lap, glanced at one another.

“Haven’t thought about it,” Jack said. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, if you didn’t have any plans, Rhys was planning a big traditional dinner. It wouldn’t be any trouble to have you all round.”

“What’s Christmas?” Lillian said.

Gwen looked shocked. “You haven’t told her about Christmas?”

“Neither of us are believers, Gwen,” Ianto said reasonably. “And intelligent as she is, we didn’t think she was ready for a comprehensive overview of western religion and philosophy.” 

“No need to be sarcastic, Ianto Jones,” Gwen said primly, gaining her an amused grin from Jack. “And I wasn’t suggesting you take her to St. David’s for a good baptism. But you may be aware that even non-believers are known to eat turkey and exchange gifts every twenty-fifth of December.”

“We wouldn’t want to intrude on your family,” Ianto said, chastened. 

“As it happens, neither my parents nor Rhys’s will be able to make it this year, so we decided we’d invite friends. I’m asking Clem and Rupesh, as well.”

“It sounds lovely,” Jack said. “What can we bring?”

“Just your three smiling faces,” Gwen said. “Rhys is planning this more carefully than the Normandy invasion, so be prepared to eat until you can’t move. I’ll let you know timing and so forth in a week or two.”

“Thanks for thinking of us,” Ianto said. 

Gwen leaned over and gave him a hug. “Of course,” she said. “You’re my closest mates.” She stood and hugged Jack and Lillian together, kissing Jack on the cheek and patting Lillian on the head. “Be good, Lillian. I’ll see you all again Friday.”

“Thanks, Gwen,” Ianto said, rising to walk her to the front door. They paused there a moment, Gwen looking back to the kitchen.

“You are going to have Christmas here, aren’t you, sweetheart? For Lillian?”

“Honestly, Gwen, we’ve been so busy with her, I hadn’t given it a thought until you mentioned it,” Ianto said. “But I’ll talk to Jack.” At her look of reproach, he added, “I’m sure we’ll do something. It’s a perfect excuse to spoil her, and when has Jack ever passed that up?”

“See you do,” Gwen admonished him. “It wouldn’t kill you to decorate a tree, either.”

++++

“So what do you think?” Ianto asked Jack at bedtime that night. “Should we do the whole tree and present thing?”

Jack crossed his arms behind his head. “It could be fun,” he said. “We could make it fun for ourselves. Take the parts we like, and disregard the rest. For instance, I could take or leave the whole Santa thing. It’s kind of creepy, him knowing who’s naughty and nice. What body gave him the authority to judge, and what are his standards? There’s not exactly a lot of transparency. And flying reindeer? Seems a little unsafe, don’t you think? Give me a decent spaceship any day.”

Ianto frowned, trying to figure out if Jack was joking or not, when there was a tiny creak from the doorway. They looked over to see Lillian in her footie pajamas.

“Hey, Lillian, everything okay?” Jack asked, and the little alien came wordlessly to their bed and climbed up, sitting upright to face them. Both men regarded her expectantly.

“Who is my mother?” she asked.

“Well, Ianto and I are like your mother and father…” Jack said. 

“No, no,” Lillian said, shaking her head. “Whose tummy did I come out of? Which one?”

Ianto and Jack looked at each other. “Er, what brings this on?” Ianto asked.

Lillian made a little sound of frustration, and reached out for Ianto’s hand. She turned it back and forth in her own hand, then touched his face and her own face, patted his hair, and then her own leathery head. “Who?” she said, her voice very small.

“Oh, Lillian,” Ianto said, pulling her into his arms. “You are our little girl, and we will always love you very much. But… you weren’t born to us, like Elwyn was to Gwen.”

Lillian nodded, as though she’d guessed as much. 

Jack sat up and put his hands on Lillian’s and Ianto’s backs, forming a circle. “We don’t know who your mother was,” he began. “You came to us in a spaceship, what we think was a lifeboat, to save you from some disaster. Gwen and Rupesh and all our friends at Torchwood found you and brought you here to us, because they knew we could take care of you.”

“Where did I come from?” Lillian said.

“We don’t know,” Ianto said.

“Another planet, we think,” Jack said. “Maybe another time. We’re trying to find out, but it’s very hard to tell.”

Lillian turned Ianto’s hand in her own again. “Were there others, like me? In the spaceship?”

“No,” Ianto said. “Only you.”

Lillian thought for a moment. “So my mother is…”

Ianto looked helplessly at Jack, who took a deep breath. “I’ve been to a lot of places,” Jack began. “Many, many planets. And on every planet I’ve been to, every intelligent species places great value on its young. I believe the only reason your mother would have put you into that spaceship is because it was the only option that would keep you safe. Even if that meant she would die herself.”

Lillian bowed her head, silent and still in Ianto’s and Jack’s arms. 

“It was a loving thing,” Ianto said, and he could feel tears starting in his eyes. “The most loving thing.”

Lillian began to make a long, low creaking moan, and Ianto rocked her slowly, back and forth.

“It’s okay,” Jack whispered. “It’s okay to mourn for her.”

++++

Lillian fell to sleep suddenly, as though learning the story of herself had taken the strength from her. But Jack and Ianto stayed awake a long time, Lillian cradled between them. 

“I’d hoped we could have held that conversation off a little longer,” Ianto said. “She’s still so young.”

“She’s developing quickly, though,” Jack said. “Her reasoning skills are already high. It makes sense that she’d notice the differences between herself and other children.”

“Still,” Ianto said. “It would be a lot for an adult to take in. We’ve seen that at… we’ve seen how people react when they find out that what they thought was true about themselves… isn’t. And she’s so young. We’ve only had her a little while.”

“At this rate, she’ll be full grown in a few years,” Jack said. “I should ask Rupesh to run some projections.” 

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Ianto said. “I want her to stay like this, so we can look after her. God, all of this is going to come up so soon. We only have a few years to figure out how to protect her, and do whatever needs to be done. We’ll have to go somewhere remote. Maybe the Shetlands…”

“Ianto, shh,” Jack whispered. “You’ll wake her. And I’m working on it.”

“You keep saying that,” Ianto whispered back. “Were you planning on letting me in on it?”

“Ianto, you know I have no intention of staying on this planet,” Jack said gently. “I mean, I will if you want to, but I was sort of hoping you wouldn’t want to.”

Ianto felt a shiver go through his body. “Jack, you don’t realize what a big thing you’re asking. I know space travel was, is… _will be_ mundane when you… are growing up, but I’m having trouble grasping the idea of actually leaving Earth.”

“Five seconds ago, you were ready to move us to a remote uninhabited island,” Jack said. “Wouldn’t you rather see other worlds? And think about it, we would all be aliens together. Lillian wouldn’t be the odd one out.”

Ianto pressed his lips together, cutting off his own words. He hadn’t thought of that. 

“Come on, Ianto, don’t you want to see the glass forests on Pyrenis Four? Or how about the Leannas Archipelago, and its seventeen worlds of delight?”

“Jack, you talk about it like space is some kind of giant theme park, where nothing bad ever happens. But we both know that’s not true.”

Jack nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “But I would take care of you. Both of you. And if you ever wanted to come back to Earth, I’d bring you right away.”

Ianto fixed him with an incredulous look. “Come on, Jack, I know you…”

“And I know you, Ianto,” Jack said. “You pretend to be this homebody, with your coffee and your comfy chairs and everything in its place…”

Ianto gave an offended squeak, but Jack went on.

“But once you get out there, once you see the wonderful things that are out there, well, Earth will just be someplace you’re _from_.”

Ianto gave a weary sigh. Jack would argue his point for hours, if Ianto let him. “Let me think about it,” he said. “And it may take a long time.”

“Take as long as you want,” Jack said. “It’s not like I’ve got a spaceship in the shed ready to launch, anyway.”

Ianto looked down at Lillian sleeping between them. “Do you think she’s sleeping soundly enough to lie down now?” 

“I think so,” Jack said, and he helped Ianto slowly maneuver her down onto the bed and under the covers. Ianto carefully stretched out beside her.

“It’s been awhile since she’s done this,” he said. “I thought she’d outgrown it. I’m glad she didn’t, at least for now.”

Jack slid down in the bed himself, staying propped up just enough on the pillows that he could look at Ianto and Lillian together. “Go to sleep,” Jack said. “We’ll talk more Christmas in the morning.”

And as Ianto tried to remember how that conversation had been going, he drifted off himself.

++++

Ianto had guessed right about Jack using the holidays as an opportunity to spoil Lillian, and by the Solstice, they were deep in holiday cheer. Lillian had been absolutely enchanted by the tree, watching the patterns the twinkling lights made on the ceiling. She had gotten so excited opening the little boxes and examining the ornaments that Ianto had grabbed more or less at random, that now he and Jack brought a few more home nearly every time they went out, just to watch her turn them in her hands and exclaim delightedly over them. Soon the little tree was weighed down with shiny animals and birds, tin soldiers and china dolls, and sequined, glittery baubles of every shape. Jack even connected the tree lights to the main lightswitch so it was the first thing that turned on when they come home from being out.

Mrs Louden sent over tins of cookies every time she baked a new variety, which amounted to three or four times a week, and Jack was off on mysterious “errands” whenever Ianto took Lillian out for an hour. Ianto hadn’t found the stash of Christmas gifts, yet (and, honestly, he wasn’t really trying) but he was sure it was somewhere in the house.

Not that he hadn’t braved the shops himself, selecting some pretty little frocks that he hoped Lillian wouldn’t grow out of too quickly, a new electric blanket in pink, and a Playmobile set of astronauts with a flying saucer. Of course, he’d had a pang of emotion on Lillian’s behalf while waiting in line behind other parents buying baby dolls and Barbies, knowing Lillian would never get to play “mama” to a dolly that looked like her, and made his way back to the stuffed animals to see if there were any dinosaurs that might look close.

Jack was an entirely different problem. “Impossible to buy for” didn’t even begin to describe the problem. The man simply had no wants or needs. Until Ianto had come along, his living space had consisted of a cot and a storage locker, and his diet had been so ascetic that a simple cup of coffee was a luxury. Hot showers, cushioned furniture, and the neighbors sending round sweets probably seemed like the height of opulence.

On the other hand, he was always so genuinely grateful for every effort Ianto made on his behalf that Ianto knew he could wrap just about anything and put it under the tree, and Jack would react with the same heartfelt happiness. It was frustrating if you wanted to find something particularly special. 

Which was why he was standing in the men’s department at Howell’s on Christmas Eve, seriously contemplating whether Jack would prefer a solid or plaid woolen scarf. He’d already selected two (very expensive) dress shirts, one light blue and one blue pinstripe, and an elegant set of silver cufflinks with vintage styling that he was pretty sure would ping the war-era imprinting in the part of Jack’s brain that controlled his fashion sense. 

The store intercom gave a polite chime, and a woman’s voice announced that they would be closing in thirty minutes, and shoppers were encouraged to select their final purchases and make their way to the check-out lines. 

_Fuck it_ , Ianto thought, grabbing both scarves and a pair of grey leather driving gloves besides, and walking quite briskly to the confectionary and holiday departments to get some Turkish delight and a box of crackers before the cashiers closed.

It was on his way back to the cashier that he felt the skin on the back of his neck start to prickle. He knew better than to ignore it and cast a surreptitious glance around while he waited in line. There, a slightly portly man in his mid-twenties perusing lazily through a rack of novelty ties. _No way,_ Ianto thought. _Not at five minutes to closing._

He kept one eye on the man, using all the skills Jack taught him about how to monitor someone who was following you without giving away that you knew you were being followed, and the man did trail him out, down the long way to the car park, and up and down a few aisles as Ianto pretended to have forgotten exactly where he’d parked. 

As his car crept slowly through the traffic on St. Mary’s Street, Ianto could see his tail a block or so back, carefully keeping a few cars between himself and Ianto. _Shit. Why now?_ he though, as he flipped open his phone with one hand and dialed the house number.

“Hey, sexy,” came Jack’s voice. “On your way home?”

“Hoo bar shee dah koom radan,” Ianto said. “Kal yuan me na da.”

_Get out of the house. Take her with you._

“Zah veetoy tay,” Jack said, and rang off.

_Meet me._

He didn’t need to say where.


	3. Part Three: Christmas and the New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The baby alien is in danger. Jack and Ianto learn her origins and face a difficult decision.

After fighting the crosstown traffic, Ianto pulled into the underground car park at Torchwood nearly an hour later, only to find Jack’s motorcycle already there. _He’ll be getting a right ticking off for that,_ Ianto thought, even as the reasonable part of his brain argued, _what did you expect him to do? Take the route 9 bus?_

He raced to the Hub, barely noticing the improvements in lighting and organization that had come under Gwen’s leadership. He found the team, and Jack, gathered around Lois’s large screen monitor. 

“Where’s Lillian?” Ianto shouted, scanning the Hub for the little alien. 

Jack turned around, and Ianto saw Lillian was tucked inside the front of his greatcoat, a blanket wrapped around her so only her eyes peeked out.

“Oh, thank God,” Ianto breathed, clattering down the catwalk steps to throw his arms around Jack and Lillian together. Jack’s hands came up to tilt his face for a kiss, and Ianto accepted it gratefully. Then he bent down to kiss Lillian on her forehead.

“Motorcycle’s cold,” she murmured.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Ianto said. “You’re safe now.”

“There’s the bugger,” Clem said, pointing to the monitor screen. Jack held onto Ianto as he turned to look. 

It was a view from the CCTV camera that gave an elevated view of the Plass, and while most of the pedestrians were hurrying through the gathering dark, one man in a dark grey windbreaker was walking slowly, head down, carefully putting his foot on every stone. 

“He’s looking for the lift,” John said. “Look, he’s following an outward spiral pattern.”

“How’s he even know about the lift?” Lois said, adjusting the camera to zoom in on the man’s face. “Isn’t that the whole point of it being invisible?”

Jack opened his coat, and Ianto could see he’d fashioned a sort of carrier for Lillian out of knotted blankets to hold her securely against him. Probably for the ride over, Ianto guessed. “Here, take Lillian into the conference room,” Jack said, undoing the knots. “It’s warmer in there. Gwen…”

She looked up and their eyes met. Gwen gave the barest nod. Ianto gathered Lillian up in her blankets and carried her upstairs.

She was small enough to curl up in one of the large conference chairs, so Ianto tucked her in, knowing she’d get awake when she’d warmed up, and brought up the internal CCTV monitor embedded in the table to watch what was happening.

Gwen and Jack had clearly gone up in the lift and grabbed their trespasser, and were now strong-arming him down to the interrogation cells. John followed after, calling something back to Rupesh. _Full court press, then,_ Ianto thought, and switched the view.

Jack had pushed the man down into one of the chairs that Ianto knew (from experience, unfortunately) was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever. Gwen sat across from, leaning in and firing questions while Jack paced, radiating fury. John entered and stood in the corner, watching impassively with his arms crossed. 

There was a pattern to these things, Ianto knew, and this tosser was textbook. Denial, first, shoulders raised, palms up, in the “Who, me?” posture. Even without sound, Ianto knew he was spinning a reasonable-sounding tale of waiting for someone. Then the feigned aggrievement. I’m a tax-paying citizen and how dare you pull me off the street. Ianto leaned back, anticipating the “okay, you’ve got me, but it’s not what you’re thinking” stage, when Jack completely lost patience. 

He charged forward, slamming the man against the concrete walls so hard that Gwen jumped in alarm. John, Ianto was impressed to note, didn’t even flinch. Jack was right in the man’s face, and Ianto knew (again, experience) that even the most resolved liars cracked pretty quickly under the focused attention of a Jack Harkness interrogation. Ianto saw Jack’s hand move towards where his gun usually was, then stay as he realized he’d left it at the house.

_Thank God for that,_ Ianto thought, as the mental image of Jack hurtling through the streets of Cardiff on his motorcycle with Lillian bundled next to his revolver was just too disturbing to deal with. 

Jack raised a fist, instead.

Now the man had his hands up, shaking his head furiously and speaking very quickly. John turned on his heel and exited the room. Jack thumped the man’s head against the wall for good measure and followed him. Rupesh, who must have been standing just outside, entered with a medical tray. As Ianto reached to switch cameras again, there was a soft knock at the door. 

Ianto looked up to see Lois there, casting worried glances at Lillian. She gestured for Ianto to join her in the hallway, and she half-closed the door so they wouldn’t accidentally be overheard. 

“He’s from one of the tin-hat societies Gwen had me contact when Lillian first landed,” Lois whispered. “They’ve fashioned some sort of massive receiving array up near Cardigan, thousands of miles of antenna wire arranged in a fractal configuration. Pretty ingenious, actually…”

Ianto took hold of her wrist, squeezing a bit harder than was probably necessary to bring her back on topic.

“Sorry, anyway,” she went on, “they’ve been monitoring us, too. Apparently there’s been an answer to the distress call from Lillian’s lifeboat.”

“What?!”

“It’s her people, Ianto. We know how to contact them, now.”

Ianto took a minute to try to process that, and couldn’t. He focused on the smaller picture. “And that man..?”

Lois shook her head. “They’re harmless,” she said. “Four blokes spending their weekends trying to phone aliens. They knew we had something to do with it, but they didn’t know what. They only knew you because of the tourist office, and were trying to put the pieces together.”

“What’s happening now, then?”

“John and Clem are coordinating their information with what we have, see if we can make contact, and I expect we’ll be Retconning the poor bugger just short of a coma…”

“Where’s Jack?” Ianto said, cutting her short. “We need…”

“I’m here, Ianto.”

Ianto turned to see Jack climbing the stairs. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “What’s going to happen to Lillian?”

“Where is she?” Jack asked, ignoring Ianto’s questions. 

Ianto stepped in front of the conference room door, blocking it. “She’s still asleep. What’s happening, Jack?”

And then Ianto was wrapped tight in Jack’s arms. “We found them, Ianto,” he said softly against Ianto’s cheek. “Lillian’s people. They’ve been searching for her.”

“No, no, not now,” Ianto said, trying to pull himself away. “It’s been too long. We’re her family now…”

“Ianto.”

Ianto froze, hearing Lillian’s voice behind him. He turned to see her just beyond the door, her blanket clutched around her. He crouched down, reaching for her. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m right here.”

Lillian hesitated, looking from Ianto’s face to Jack’s and back. “You are crying,” she said.

Ianto rubbed his eyes on the sleeve of his jumper. “I’m sorry, it’s just, just…”

“Did you hear us talking, Lillian?” Jack asked, and she nodded solemnly. 

“Is it my spaceship?” she asked.

“We think so,” Jack said.

Lois’s earpiece gave a soft chime, and she stepped a few feet away, touching one finger to it to converse with someone downstairs.

“Do I have to go?” Lillian said. 

“No,” Ianto said. “Not if you…”

Jack stayed him with a hand on his shoulder, and Ianto’s breath caught, not quite a sob. 

“We need to talk to them,” Jack said. “We have a lot of questions we need to ask.”

“Jack,” Lois said. “They’ve contacted them. They want to see Lillian.”

Lillian came forward, past Ianto. “Is it my mommy and daddy?”

Lois cast a glance at Jack, then said, “I don’t think so. They think… it might be your grandmother.”

Lillian looked around, trying to figure out which way to go, and Jack scooped her up, heading for the stairs.

“Jack, stop,” Ianto said, hurrying after. “How do we know this is for real? Why now? After all this time?”

“We will talk to them,” Jack said firmly. 

Gwen was standing by the computer monitor, while Clem alternated between typing madly at the keyboard and running lengths of cable to other pieces of equipment. On the screen was a grainy, distorted image of five alien beings. They were undeniably of the same species as Lillian.

“The translation is still a little dodgy,” Gwen said apologetically, “but the aliens are being very patient and understanding while we work out their language.” Gwen turned, stepping in front of the digital camera Clem had wired into the set-up. 

“We have her here, your majesty,” Gwen said, and gestured for Jack to join her. Lillian was clinging to him, timidly looking over her shoulder towards the monitor. On the screen, Ianto could see the aliens moving closer, no doubt trying to get a closer look at their own monitor. The alien in the middle of the frame, who, Ianto had to admit, looked the most like Lillian by virtue of being the same orange color, spoke.

“Is she well?”

“She can tell you herself,” Jack said, encouraging her with a little hug. 

“Yes, I’m very well, thank you,” Lillian said.

There was delay as the signal travelled, but then the aliens reacted with obvious happiness and relief. The older orange alien— _Lillian’s grandmother,_ Ianto thought, still not quite believing it—leaned even further in. 

“We have been all looking to you, Clessthda,” she said. “Later than terrible sad, we afraid to you. Then all is not known until we talk to Earth. We are so happy for see you are well!”

On a smaller monitor screen nearby, there was a flurry of activity as the computer recalibrated the translation.

Lillian turned in Jack’s arms, looking at the screen more curiously now. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally speaking. “Where am… where am I from?”

Lillian’s grandmother steepled her fingers together and nodded in a way that Ianto hoped he was reading correctly as “fond.” 

“Our world is Dpeethdra,” she said. “Very beautiful. Our sun is hot. Our seas are clear. Our trees tall and blue. Our people very strong and wise.”

Lillian hesitated again. “My mommy and daddy..?” she said.

“They…” Here her grandmother faltered, and a more slender dark-green alien stepped forward to take her hand.

“I am Cyonark, royal advisor,” he said. “Forgive her Majesty. The pain, the loss… still close. Her son, your father, was returning from a protectorate planet with his recognized consort, that you would be born on our homeworld.”

Cyonark inclined his head towards Lillian’s grandmother, seeming to ask her permission to continue. Ianto glanced at Lillian, who was touching her fingertips together in a nervous way. The calibration bars on the translator began to shift from yellow to blue, indicating that accuracy was being achieved, when Cyonark began to speak again.

“There was an accident,” he said. “Their ship was damaged, drifting. Your mother gave birth while they awaited rescue. Then something appeared in space nearby. It threatened to tear their ship apart.”

“…The Rift.” Ianto said it under his breath, almost not conscious of speaking aloud, and heard Jack breathe in sharply.

“Only one lifepod remained undamaged,” Cyonark went on. “For you, princess. To save you.”

“How do you know this?” Ianto said. “If Lillian was the only survivor, how do you know these details?”

At this, Lillian’s grandmother began to make the creaking gate sound Ianto knew only too well, the sound of profound grief.

Jack, ever the diplomat, stepped in to soften Ianto’s words. “You know why we must ask,” he said. “We must know for sure you are who you say. We consider ourselves the protectors of this child, and must be vigilant against those who might mean her harm.”

“I understand,” Cyonark said. “It is hard to explain to aliens, but there is a connection between our children and their mothers. At moments of great emotion, there is…” He waved his fingers, seeming to search for the words. “Her Majesty, when her son… she knew, she felt, she… feels it still. That is why she had to find the princess. Her son’s memories compel her.”

Lillian’s grandmother had composed herself, now, and she took over. “Meet with us,” she said. “We will come to you, and you may ask us anything you like. I am grateful for all you have done, and will do what I can to satisfy you.”

Ianto felt his heart begin to break. “How soon will you be here?” he asked.

“We are approaching your planet now,” Cyonark said. “In… one-sixth of your Earth’s rotation we will enter orbit.”

“Four hours,” Lois supplied. “About 2230.”

“According to Torchwood protocol, this should be regarded as a state visit,” John said quietly.

“Right,” Gwen said. “Your Majesty. Are you able to identify our location..?”

Jack stepped away from the screen and handed Lillian to Ianto. “Let’s go back to the conference room,” he said. “They have a lot of details to get worked out.”

Lillian clenched and unclenched her fist around Ianto’s jumper. “Ianto, Ianto,” she said quietly. “Am I going away?”

Ianto tightened his arms around her, fleeing to the relative privacy of the conference room to find the strength to answer her.

Jack eased Ianto and Lillian into one of the chairs, then knelt alongside, awkwardly trying to put his arms around them both. 

“It’s too fast,” Ianto said. “Only a few hours. It’s not enough time.”

“It’s her family, Ianto,” Jack said. “Her people. We can’t separate her…”

Ianto put his hand over Lillian’s ear. “Not yet,” he said. “Please…”

Lillian curled her fingers around Ianto’s hand and gently moved it away, moving to sit up and face him as she did so. “Don’t be sad, Ianto,” she said. “I am… I am not alone anymore. I have a family.”

“You always had a family,” Ianto said, suddenly fierce. “You are our daughter, Lillian, as much as Elwyn is Gwen and Rhys’s.”

“Yes, yes,” Lillian said, in the overly-patient way children have when explaining something to adults. “But they are also family. And…” She touched her fingertips to Ianto’s cheek, then to her own.

Ianto shook his head. “That’s not important to us,” he said. “We’d love you no matter what you looked like.”

Lillian didn’t say anything for a long moment, only bowed her head forward, thinking. “But you don’t… know,” she said finally. “I am…” she tapped her fingertips to her chest.

“They are like you,” Jack said. “They look like you, they eat what you eat, they feel things like you do.” 

“Yes,” Lillian said, nodding, then she took one of Jack’s hands and one of Ianto’s hands. “But you are family, too,” she said. “Don’t forget.”

Ianto hugged her to him. “Never,” he said. “Never.”

++++

A little while later, Gwen joined them. “John thinks we need someplace not so…” She gestured in a way that indicated she was referring to the entire Hub. “…derelict aircraft carrier chic to meet with the delegation from Dpeethdra, so we’re commandeering the Brasserie down the road for the evening.”

Jack stood up, but kept one hand on Ianto’s shoulder. “Good idea,” he said.

“I spent quite a while talking to Cyonark,” Gwen went on. “He was able to tell us a bit more about his planet and his people. It seems Lillian actually is royalty. Her gran is Queen Hiakonya the 14th, and her dad was the Queen’s third son.”

“The Lady Louise Windsor of Dpeethdra,” Ianto noted, and when that got an incredulous stare from Jack, he added, “Torchwood does answer to the Monarchy; it was only polite to keep up,” with a bit of indignation.

“At any rate,” Gwen went on, “their royal family appears to be primarily symbolic, although Queen Hiakonya is extremely popular and beloved. Apparently the search for Lillian has been the focus of much of the planet since it became known there was a possibility she survived. We’re still not sure why those jokers in Cardigan picked up the signal and not us, but at least they were clever enough to connect the lifeboat crash, what they knew of Torchwood, and some internet chatter about you three and bring them here.”

“Good work, Gwen,” Jack said. “How long do we have?”

“About three hours.”

Jack leaned down, kissed Ianto and Lillian on their foreheads. “I’m going to go talk with Clem,” he said. “Won’t be a minute.”

When he’d gone, Gwen sat down next to Ianto. “Are you both doing okay?” she asked.

Ianto tilted his head to look at Lillian, trying to keep a brave face.

Lillian fluttered one hand. “I’m… sad and happy together,” she said. “I want to go, but also to stay.” She leaned into Ianto with a soft creak, and Ianto put his arms around her. “You were right,” she said. “It’s too fast.”

“We will miss you so much,” Ianto said.

“Oh, God, you should have pictures,” Gwen said, jumping to her feet. She bolted from the room and returned a minute later with a digital camera and Jack in tow.

“I’ll do several,” she said. “We’ll make prints for Lillian to take with her.” And much of the next hour was occupied with Gwen arranging the unusual family for portraits and preparing nice prints.

Then it was Clem’s turn. He entered the conference room with two shopping bags and said, “you’ll never guess who I just met out on the Plass. Why, it was old Father Christmas himself! Seems he had some special gifts for a dear little girl named Lillian, and he just couldn’t find her. So I told him, ‘I know Lillian, and I’d be happy to take those things to her for you.’ And here I am!”

Lillian gaped at him for a moment, then said, “there’s no Father Christmas!”

Jack burst out laughing. “You can’t put one over on our girl,” he said.

Clem hmmphed, then mumbled, “then who was the big jolly bloke?” while he and Jack unpacked the bags. The rest of Torchwood joined the party, exclaiming over the toys and clothes as Lillian unwrapped them. Jack’s gifts to Ianto were there, too, so Ianto fetched his gifts to Jack from the car, and made it a proper exchange. Lois brought up drinks and cookies from the commissary, and Ianto passed out shiny crackers to everyone.

Too soon it was time to go, and as the members of Torchwood gave Lillian their well-wishes and said their goodbyes, Jack and Ianto packed up the clothes they’d gotten her, the dolls and toys, and her copies of the photos Gwen had taken, secured in a cardboard file.

John left first, then Lois, as the final preparations needed to be made. Rupesh took Lillian aside for a moment before making his exit to give her some practical advice on how to adjust to a different diet, and Clem made her promise to stay in touch, if she could.

Jack put his hands on his hips. “We should get going,” he said.

“No, wait,” Lillian said, and pointed to the shopping bag that had been packed with her things. “I want to wear my new dress. So I look nice to meet them.”

“Yes, of course,” Ianto said, removing the deep blue velvet frock he’d bought for her. He helped her out of her playclothes and into the new outfit. It fit her perfectly.

“You look beautiful,” Ianto said, carefully smoothing the lines of the skirt. “Just like a princess.”

“Ianto…” she said quietly, and held up her arms to be lifted. Then she said, “Jack,” and reached for him, too. She wrapped one arm around each of their necks, and started to make her sad, squeaking sound. “I’ll miss you,” she managed to gasp out between cries, and then, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jack and Ianto said together, laughing at that through their own tears.

They held each other for several minutes, knowing it might be the last time they would, and then, with no further words, made their way out of the Hub and across the Plass to the restaurant.

++++

The team had cleared tables and chairs from the main part of the restaurant and taken advantage of the space’s multiple levels to arrange a suitably impressive staging area for the meeting. The view of the bay was especially beautiful, with all of the boats outfitted with holiday lights, and the sky clear and studded with stars.

The Torchwood team was all business, now. Even Clem had changed out of his stained coveralls for the occasion.

“John’s waiting to meet them at the arranged coordinates,” Gwen informed them, “and then he’ll escort them here. The Queen wants to present you two…” Here she nodded to Jack and Ianto. “…with some sort of official recognition. I suppose ceremony and ritual are a universal constant.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jack agreed.

Gwen crouched down by Lillian. “And don’t you look the picture,” she said. “That’s a lovely color for you.”

“Thank you,” Lillian said.

“They’re here. We’re on our way.” John’s disembodied voice came from every Torchwood communicator at once.

Gwen stood again, and guided them over to where several chairs had been arranged on a raised area in front of the massive picture windows. “We thought you should stand here,” she said. “So they see Lillian as soon as they come in.”

“Thank you, Gwen,” Jack said, and Ianto reached out to take his hand.

They arranged themselves almost exactly as they had for Gwen’s pictures, Jack and Ianto shoulder to shoulder, Lillian cradled in the shelter of their arms. 

And then the alien delegation came through the doors.

The Queen led the way, flanked closely by Cyonark and followed by four more attendants. All wore long puffy hooded coats of a sparkly white material and with a faint bluish glow emerging at the openings around their faces and hands.

“Damn,” Clem growled under his breath. “Self-heating clothes.”

Gwen stepped forward and dropped in a quick curtsy. “On behalf of the Torchwood Institute, welcome to Earth, your Majesty.” 

But the Queen had eyes for no one in the room but Lillian, and had barely let her supporters remove her protective coat before she crossed the room to her.

She spoke to them, and her own language was exactly what Ianto expected after so many weeks of listening to Lillian’s own sounds: squeaks and clicks and sounds that were almost syllables, all sibilant hiss. After a moment, the machines Clem had wired throughout the restaurant translated.

“You look so much like your father.”

“Your Majesty,” Jack said. “This is Lillian.”

The machines translated back, and for a second, Ianto had the mental image of an alien-lizard-Jack, still in braces and greatcoat.

“Lillian,” the Queen said, almost tasting the unfamiliar sound, and then she repeated it twice more.

“Yes,” Jack said.

“Can you understand me, Lillian?” the Queen said. 

“Yes,” Lillian said. “Through the machines.”

The Queen made a sound exactly like Lillian’s “happy noise” and reached towards her, stopping just short of touching her skin. 

“Will you… sit together with me?” she said. “I have so much to learn about you. About your life on this strange planet.”

Ianto shifted Lillian’s weight entirely to Jack, and gestured for the Queen to sit in one of the chairs they’d arranged for her. Jack set Lillian down, and she sat beside her grandmother.

“Where to begin?” the Queen said. “Perhaps I should ask if you have questions for me.”

Lillian lowered her eyes shyly. “My mommy and daddy,” she said. “What were they like?”

++++

Jack and Ianto retreated into the background, still and silent so they could hear every word. They listened as Queen Hiakonya told them about Lillian’s father, Prince Yathoth, nicknamed “the kindhearted,” and his consort, Lady Essesstress, who had been so excited about becoming a mother. When she started asking questions about Lillian and her life, Jack drew Ianto away, explaining it would be insulting to eavesdrop about themselves.

They walked outside, the cold air off the bay a tonic to the warmth inside the restaurant. 

“What do you think?” Jack said.

Ianto leaned against the rail and looked down into the water. “I like them,” he said. “They were just what I’d hope Lillian’s species would be like. Wise and kind and understanding. Her grandmother obviously adores her already.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I guess I was secretly hoping we’d find a reason to not let them take her.” 

Jack pulled Ianto into his arms and kissed him. There was nothing to say.

++++

Gwen brought them back inside about twenty minutes later, for what Ianto guessed would be the “honoring ceremony” portion of the evening, and Queen Hiakonya rose to greet them.

“There is no way to tell you how grateful I am for all you have done,” she said. “Which of you is Jack?”

Jack stepped forward. “I am, your Majesty. Captain Jack Harkness.” 

“Lillian tells me you have travelled through space and time, so I know you understand that most beings would not care for the child of another species, and certainly not treat her as one of their own. As you can imagine, we all feared the very worst. Our best hope was that she would not be treated too badly.” Here the Queen drew herself up and looked both men in the eye before continuing. “You and Ianto have done an extraordinary thing,” she said. “Without even knowing anything about her, you took her into your home and did everything you could to see she was well cared for and happy. As you made her part of your family, I now make you part of mine. By my word and my mark, I formally declare you both my sons and full members of the Dpeethdra royal family, with all the benefits that confers.”

And with those words, the Queen herself bowed low before them both. 

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur for Ianto, as the Queen’s entourage and Torchwood both reacted to the unexpected announcement, and all the blood seemed to drain from Ianto’s head. At some point, Lillian demonstrated the human custom of hugging, and he was wrapped in many pairs of cool, leathery arms. He saw Gwen and John take Cyonark aside, presumably for a focused discussion on Dpeethdra royal benefits and duties.

And then Jack was lifting Lillian into his arms, and the three of them were clinging together for just a moment. “Be good,” Jack said.

And then Lillian and the rest of the aliens were gone. 

“You should both go home, Jack,” Gwen told them, and in a daze Ianto found himself in the passenger seat of his car and on his way home.

++++

The whole neighborhood was dark and still when they arrived at the house, just after 3 a.m. Jack hit the lightswitch inside the door and their Christmas tree lights twinkled on. 

For Ianto, it was the final blow. He fell into Jack’s arms and cried his heart out.

++++

Jack let Ianto sleep until 10:30, then woke him gently with a mug of tea and murmured words of affection. Still, he woke feeling raw and achy, and with the taste of something sour and rotten in his mouth. 

“Do you think she’s there yet? On her homeworld?” Ianto asked.

“Hard to say,” Jack said. “Although I gathered from Clem that they’re in the neighborhood, galactically-speaking. So yes, probably.”

“I didn’t know it would be like this,” Ianto said. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Not this.”

“She’s better off,” Jack said. “With her own people, her natural environment. They know how to care for her, things we would only be guessing at…”

“I know,” Ianto interrupted. “I know all this, Jack. But right now… I don’t feel it. I miss her… I miss her more than I’d imagined. And knowing I’ll probably never see her again…” Here his breath came in a shuddering sob. “I can’t bear it.”

Jack put his arms around Ianto and held him. “I know,” he said. “I know.”

++++

Eventually they composed themselves enough to head downstairs, and outside the bedroom Ianto felt like he was walking a minefield, unexploded bombs of grief set to detonate at any moment and tear him into pieces. He moved carefully past Lillian’s room, and only glanced at the tree and her scattered toys in the living room as he went through to the kitchen. He found Jack standing at the sink, staring out the window at the next-door-neighbor’s wall. 

“Are you okay?” Ianto asked.

“Not really,” Jack said. “I kind of expect her to be here, and it bothers me that she’s not.” 

“Yes,” Ianto said. “That’s it.”

Jack turned around and leaned back, crossing his arms. “Nothing for it but time,” he said, a note of bitterness in his voice. “Unfortunately, I know that for a fact.” 

Ianto nodded. There wasn’t anything to say.

“I should go get the motorcycle,” Jack said, abruptly changing the subject. “Care to come with me?”

“Let me get my keys,” Ianto said. 

“No. Let’s walk.”

Ianto frowned. “That’s an hour’s walk, at least…”

“So what,” Jack said. “It’s a nice, sunny day, for December. It’ll be nice. We can ride back. But if you don’t want to…”

“No, that sounds fine,” Ianto said. “I’ll just get my coat.”

++++

They talked little as they walked, but it was comfortable for that. The streets were quiet and relatively empty, and though the shops and houses still wore their holiday finery, the city seemed to be at rest, at peace.

Ianto barely noticed how long they walked, and before he’d realized they were at the Plass.

“I just want it made clear,” he said casually. “I still hate this place. In fact, I may even hate it more.”

“Noted,” Jack said drily. “Wait here. I’ll come round and pick you up.”

“Get some helmets out of stock,” Ianto called after him, and then he found himself pacing back and forth. 

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to see the invisible lift ascending with Clem. 

“Hey, Ianto, Merry Christmas,” he called. 

“Merry Christmas,” Ianto said, more out of reflex than any particular feeling of good cheer. “You pull holiday duty on the rota?”

“No, I volunteered,” Clem said. “By the time we cleaned up last night, it didn’t make any sense to go all the way home and back for Gwen and Rhys’s do, so I caught thirty winks on the couch and puttered about this morning.”

_Shit,_ Ianto thought. He’d totally forgotten about Christmas dinner at the Williams house.

“You still going?” Clem asked, reading Ianto’s expression.

“It honestly slipped my mind,” Ianto said. “I’ll have to see what Jack wants to do.”

Clem smiled encouragingly. “She was a lovely little girl,” he said. “And we’ll all miss her. Come eat with us. It will do the two of you good.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ianto said, as Jack and his motorcycle came rumbling around the corner.

++++

Jack took the advantage of having Ianto on his bike and in a quiet mood to take a driving tour of Cardiff. He kept the conditions Ianto had made, maintaining moderate speeds through the neighborhoods. Ianto, holding Jack out of necessity as they navigated narrow turns, found his arms tightening, determined to keep them together, a family, even small and broken as it was.

In the end, they did join Clem and Rupesh at Gwen and Rhys’s, and enjoyed, as best they could, the mountains of food Rhys had prepared. Later Rhys broke out a bottle of good whisky and passed shots around to Jack, Ianto, and Clem (Rupesh and Gwen repaired to the kitchen for washing-up duty and gossip) pausing only to admonish Jack not to waste good liquor if he didn’t have the courtesy to get drunk, and stopping only when every drop had been emptied. 

Before long, he and Ianto were singing old pub songs, in Welsh, which entertained Jack no end, and Clem was complaining loudly that they ought to at least alternate with English so everyone could join in. Shortly thereafter, PC Gwen Cooper made a special guest appearance to tell the lot of them off and see her guests on their way.

Jack half-carried Ianto to the car, and he was nearly passed out by the time they got home.

“Come on,” Jack said, levering him out of the car. “Just need to get upstairs and you can sleep it off.”

Ianto slung one arm over Jack’s shoulders and stumbled up the stairs beside him. He slurred something into Jack’s ear as he slid down onto the bed and lay flat on his back, legs dangling.

“Could you repeat that, Dylan Thomas?” Jack said as he pulled off Ianto’s shoes.

“Don’t leave me, Jack,” Ianto said. “You’ve all eternity. You can spare me one lifetime.”

Jack leaned over Ianto and removed his trousers and shirt, then maneuvered him around until he could pull the covers over him. He didn’t answer before Ianto fell asleep.

++++

Ianto woke up, still very slightly drunk but mostly hung-over, to the sound of Jack’s mobile ringing at four in the morning. He heard Jack flip it open and a smooth, “Harkness. This better be good,” that didn’t sound the slightest bit drunk or hung-over. Ianto groaned with a mix of pain and envy.

“Yes, I still have it,” Jack said, sliding out of bed. Ianto heard the top drawer on the bureau slide open. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause while Jack listened and then there was a series of beeps that took Ianto a moment to recognize. Jack’s wrist strap.

“Yes, it’s on. Patch it through.” Ianto heard Jack move to his side of the bed, then felt him sit down and touch Ianto’s shoulder. “Wake up, Ianto,” Jack whispered, sounding happy and excited.

Ianto managed to pry his eyelids open, grateful that Jack had left the room dark, and pushed himself halfway sitting.

“This might be bright,” Jack warned, a half-second before his wrist strap chirped and a hologram began to coalesce in the air above it. In a moment the form of Lillian had appeared. 

“Ianto! Jack! It’s me!” she said. “Can you see me?”

“Yes! Perfectly,” Jack said. “Let me adjust things here so that you can see us.” He turned a dial, and Ianto knew a network of invisible lasers was mapping them and projecting a three-dimensional image to wherever Lillian was. He hoped he didn’t look as bad as he felt.

Lillian’s image bounced eagerly. “Yes! Yes! I see you,” she said. “I am so happy to see you. I’m here, on Dpeethdra. I’m with my grandmother, and I have aunts and uncles, and two cousins near my own age.”

Ianto felt a lump in his throat. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”

“But I miss you,” Lillian said. “How was Christmas?”

“It was lovely,” Jack said. “We went to Gwen’s…”

++++

In the end, Lillian did most of the talking, jumping from subject to subject. Towards the end of the conversation, Lillian suddenly asked when they would be visiting her, and Cyonark, the royal advisor, entered the holographic field. His image appeared alongside Lillian’s.

“We need to finish up, your highness,” he said. 

Lillian gave a dramatic sigh. “I’ll call you again soon,” she said. “I love you, Jack. I love you, Ianto.”

“I love you, Lillian,” Ianto said. 

“And I love you, too,” Jack added.

Lillian’s image moved out of the field, and Cyonark began to speak. “Your highnesses,” he said, and Ianto had a moment of confusion before remembering they were now Dpeethdra royalty. “I know the young princess is most anxious for you to visit her on our world.”

Here he paused, and Jack interjected, “but there’s a problem.”

“Yes,” Cyonark said. “Her majesty’s decision to adopt you has drawn… a mixed reaction. Our people are grateful for your care and love for the young princess, but…” Here he paused again, and Ianto recognized the manner of a diplomat choosing his words carefully. “Most of our people are not travelers,” he said. “They have never met other species, or been to other planets. It is still regarded as a risky venture.

“I know if you were to come here, they would see you for the allies you are. And the Queen would welcome such a visit as a demonstration of our need for space travel. At this time, however…”

“You can’t finance it,” Jack guessed. “Politically, it would damage the royal family.”

“Yes,” Cyonark agreed. “There is still a great deal of criticism regarding the decision for Prince Yathoth and his consort to travel off-world. Although Lillian was returned safely to us, many believe her parents should never have left Dpeethdra. There has been considerable criticism of the Queen for accompanying the rescue mission. And…” Here Cyonark stopped himself. 

“What?” Ianto insisted. “Tell us everything. It’s important for us to know.”

Cyonark continued, but he was clearly reluctant. “There has been talk,” he said, “That Lillian is not truly of Dpeethdra. She does not know our language and customs. Even her name… it is difficult for us to say.”

“She’ll learn,” Ianto insisted. “She’s so bright. She learned English in a few days.”

“I know, I know,” Cyonark said placatingly. “There is much positive interest, too, don’t mistake me. Especially among the children of our planet, many see her as an adventurer. When she is old enough to speak to our people, I am certain she will be very popular. She is very… enchanting.”

“Yes, she is,” Jack said.

“Still,” Cyonark said, “that is some time off. Until then, we cannot bring you to Dpeethdra. Please understand, it is for the sake of her Majesty and her family.”

“We would never do anything to damage the Queen,” Jack said forcefully. “We are her family, too.”

“Thank you for your appreciation of the situation,” Cyonark said, visibly relieved.

“Please,” Ianto said. “Lillian will still be able to contact us, won’t she? Even once a month…”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Cyonark said. “She will want to contact you every day, at least, I’m sure of it. She talks about you constantly. And we will bring you here, as soon as the climate allows.”

“Let me ask one more thing,” Jack said. “If we were to find our own means to travel to Dpeethdra, would that be allowed?”

Cyonark looked surprised. “Certainly,” he said. “But I understood Earth had not yet achieved deep space travel.”

“We haven’t,” Jack said. “But we have contact with space travelers from other planets. And occasionally other possibilities… present themselves. I’m not saying we’re able to leave soon, or even that it’s possible, but if it should happen…”

“You would be most welcome,” Cyonark said. “I sincerely hope, for the little princess’s sake, that you can manage it.”

They signed off, and Jack carefully adjusted the strap to fit properly back on his wrist before returning to bed. He and Ianto held one another for several minutes before Ianto spoke. 

“Are you going to try to contact the Doctor?” he said. 

“Maybe,” Jack said. “If you think visiting Lillian whenever we felt like it is sufficient incentive to get you off this planet.”

Ianto didn’t say anything for a long time, and finally Jack spoke again.

“I’m not going to leave you, Ianto,” he said. “What I have with you, it’s a rare thing. I’m not going to give you up. I promise you.”

Ianto touched the leather strap around Jack’s wrist, so long absent it was now strange to have it back. Then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Jack could have left him long before now, but he stayed in the little world where Ianto was: a world of teacups and garden sheds and rocking chairs. He could be saving worlds with the Doctor, or defending the principality with Torchwood. Instead, he seemed content to look after their elderly neighbor and tinker on an antique motorcycle.

It wasn’t falling to his knees and swearing an oath in front of the whole Shadow Proclamation, but it would have to be good enough.

“Okay,” Ianto said. “I’ll go.”

And his breath was squeezed out in a whoosh, as Jack fell on top of him with a crushing hug.

++++

**January:**

Of course, things were not that simple. Ianto wanted the option of returning to Earth if the situation went badly, which meant putting the house and their accounts into an order that Torchwood could manage during an extended absence. And then, not surprisingly, the Doctor was not exactly immediately responsive to Jack’s signals into the ether.

“He probably knows it’s just a pleasure trip,” Jack told Ianto apologetically when they’d still received no word after three days. “And if he’s occupied saving the universe again…”

Ianto considered pointing out the Doctor was a time traveler, and couldn’t he just double back and answer instantaneously, but he’d never been clear on just how that worked, so he patted Jack soothingly and said they’d get there in good time, and he could be patient.

Lillian communicated with them through Jack’s wrist strap on a daily basis. Or almost. Her “calls” came through about twenty-five-and-a-half hours apart, so Jack and Ianto guessed the days on her planet were about that long. She seemed to be adjusting well, spending lots of time with her large, extended family. She was also learning the Dpeethdra language, and large portions of the conversations became language lessons, as she said things in her hissing, squealing tongue, then interpreted them for Jack and Ianto.

Ianto still missed her, the weight of her in his lap and the feel of her cool, leathery hand on his. But he could cope now, talking to her at odd hours, and hearing how she was adjusting well.

They handed down her clothes to Gwen for Elwyn, and donated most of her toys to a nearby hospital, keeping a few as mementos which Ianto packed carefully away. 

They watched the fireworks on New Year’s Eve from the back of Jack’s motorcycle, perched by the side of the highway above Cardiff. They kissed at midnight, bathed in flares of red and orange light.

Ianto ended up quitting his job at the university, to little fanfare at the office and much rejoicing from Jack. He let himself wallow in the hedonism of leisurely mornings in bed, and afternoons in the spotlight of Jack’s attention. And he waited, patiently, for word from the Doctor.

++++

Jack was in the shed when the call came from Gwen, mid-morning, as Ianto was washing up from breakfast. 

“Ianto, sweetheart, you know I hate to bother you with these things, but I need Jack’s expertise. Something fell through the rift into the bay last night, and we’re having trouble getting anyone at St. Athan to answer my calls. Do you think Jack can call in some favors..?”

++++

By the time salvage boats had begun hauling the mysterious object to the surface, it was after dark, and Jack had dragged Ianto (almost literally) to the docks to watch it being brought in. 

“What are we looking at?” Jack asked Gwen, who was observing the progress through night-vision binoculars.

She lowered the lenses and passed them to Jack. “I’m thinking spaceship,” she said. “You tell me.”

Jack focused the binoculars at the ship while Ianto stomped in little circles, trying to keep warm.

“Oh, ho,” Jack said excitedly. “That’s a spaceship, alright. Altedian construction, I-S class. Forty-third century, although I’ve seen them retro-fitted for time travel. Small, but pretty zippy. Kind of the Mini Cooper of spaceships. Common as fleas in some parts.”

Gwen touched her comm. “Lois, Clem. Any sign of passengers?”

“Negative,” came Clem’s voice. “It’s clean. No cargo, no personal effects. There aren’t even empty takeaway boxes.”

“I’m doing a scan,” said Lois. “I’m getting slight radiation levels, interstellar particulates. Nothing a trip through the rift wouldn’t account for.”

“Abandoned, maybe,” Jack posited. “Or stolen and ditched.”

“Check if the serial numbers were filed off,” Ianto said.

“The lights still work,” Clem said. “And things are beeping.”

“Tell him not to touch anything,” Jack said. “They’re easy to fly if you know what you’re doing, but if they left without engaging the parking brake, he could go shooting off accidentally.”

“Backing away carefully now,” Clem said, having overheard Jack’s warning. “Slowly closing the hatch. Looked a bit snug for me in there, anyway.”

“Oh, they’re cozy,” Jack said enthusiastically. “But they’re solid.”

“So you’ve flown them,” Gwen said.

“Oh, yeah,” Jack said. “Couldn’t avoid them in some places. And like I said, solid. Still a good number of them around when I was learning piloting. In fact, I think John Hart had one at the agency for awhile.”

The salvage boat came into view, a silver almond-shaped craft roughly the size of a chip van suspended from the cranes. Jack bounced from foot to foot, clearly so anxious to get at the spaceship that Ianto thought he might leap into the water. 

“It looks good,” he said. “No visible damage, the anterior ports are sealed so no water would have gotten in. Someone made sure she’d last.”

“I take it you’re interested, then,” Gwen said.

Jack turned to her, his expression shocked and wary, but mostly hopeful. “Are you serious?”

“That’s assuming we can’t return it to its owner,” she said. “Which seems safe at this point. I mean, why have it cluttering up the vaults if someone could be getting some use out of it.”

Jack turned to Ianto, hopeful expression still in place. Ianto regarded the sleek vessel, still dripping water and reflecting the harbor lights. 

_Now this is a spaceship,_ Ianto thought. He looked back at Jack, whose hopefulness had taken on a note of longing. Ianto let him off the hook and gave a small nod.

Jack whooped and motioned for the craft to be lowered to the dock.

“Provided it’s spaceworthy!” Ianto amended, although he suspected it was a moment too late.

++++

**Epilogue: St. David’s Day (March 1st):**

Gwen stood shivering in the damp, surveying the marsh below with her night-vision binoculars.

“I can’t see a bloody thing,” she said, passing them to John. “Why do aliens always decide to drop by on parade days?”

Torchwood had already been stretched thin, bringing in half a dozen drunken blowfish in traditional Welsh costume, and now they were receiving readings of some sort of UFO. But if it was out here, Gwen was damned if she could see it. 

“No, it’s there,” John said. He lowered the lenses. “I can see it from here.”

“Where?”

“Don’t look at what you can see. Look at what you can’t see.”

Gwen had a brief twinge of nostalgia; Jack had said something similar to her when she’d first started at Torchwood. But she did scan the landscape below them, and then she saw it. An area of shadow even blacker than the surrounding dark, blocking out the tiny reflections of starlight off the leaves and wet ground. Yes, there was something there, something that completely swallowed the light, making it invisible to the night vision. Almost certainly alien.

“Alright, let’s go see,” she said, replacing the binoculars in her pack and unsnapping the holster on her gun. She and John made their way down the spongy incline and through the thick marsh-grass. As they got closer, they could begin to make out the object, but it still wasn’t clear. 

“It’s camouflaged,” Gwen said. “It’s so perfectly black I can’t even focus on it.”

Twenty-five feet away, as near as she could estimate, its outline began to take shape. It appeared oval from their vantage point, but could easily be round, and it was hovering, completely silent, a few feet above the ground. The complete silence, to Gwen, was the most unnerving. There was nothing to indicate what it was: craft, machine, weapon, living being, or natural phenomenon.

“It’s opening,” John whispered, and then Gwen saw what he saw. A line of pale light was beginning to shimmer on the object’s underside. Gwen and John both unholstered their guns and held them at the ready, pointed down.

The line expanded into a long rectangle, and then a narrow hatch opened, a silver-colored ramp lowering to the ground. Two human-seeming legs appeared in the opening, and then Gwen was reholstering her gun and covering the distance to the craft. 

“Jack,” she called out. “I should have known it was you.”

Jack, laughing, scooped her up in bear hug and swung her around. 

“I love the upgrade,” she said, looking up into the belly of the spaceship. Warm pinkish light glowed within, and she caught the impression of blinking lights and gleaming surfaces. It was, indeed, disc-shaped, and approximately thirty feet across. “Where is Ianto?”

“He’s still getting the boys dressed,” Jack said. “You know how kids are.”

Gwen’s eyes widened, and she mouthed a shocked, “Kids?” to John, who had joined them.

“How long have we been gone?” Jack asked. 

“About six weeks,” John said. 

“Excellent!” Jack said. “We may need to stay at the house for a bit.” Then he turned and yelled up the ramp, “Ianto! Drag them out naked if you have to! Company’s here!”

Ianto bounded down the ramp, but for a moment, Gwen didn’t recognize him. His hair had grown long and was tied back, and he sported a neatly trimmed beard that was starting to go salt-and-pepper. An old scar ran down the side of his face from temple to jawline. Trailing a few steps behind were two aliens: one the same race as Lillian, although nearly five feet tall and an emerald green color, and a slightly smaller and heavier one covered with a coat of glossy brown fur. 

Gwen threw her arms over Ianto’s shoulders and hugged him. “How long has it been for you?”

“Oh, ages,” Ianto said.

“Maybe about twelve years, Earth time,” Jack said. “Haven’t been living linearly lately.”

Gwen smiled at the two aliens. “And who is this?”

Jack grinned and put an arm around the furry one. “These are our sons,” he said.

“This is Sidthra,” Ianto said, indicating the green Dpeethdran, “and this is Otto. Boys, say good evening to Mrs. Williams.”

“Good evening,” the two aliens mumbled in unison. Gwen was delighted to see that some things really were universal.

“A pleasure to meet you both,” Gwen said. “But how..?”

“Long story,” Ianto said.

“Which we’ll tell you,” Jack said. “But right now we need hot showers, animal protein, and three micrograms of Vionesium, not necessarily in that order.”

“There’s a supply of Vionesium in the time-locked vaults,” John said.

“Good,” Jack said. “And seeing as we’re back on Earth, I would kill for a cup of coffee.”

At a small grunt from the furry alien, Ianto said, “not literally, Otto.”

“I’ll get the SUV,” John said, heading back across the marsh.

Jack touched a few buttons on his wrist strap and the ramp ascended back into the craft. Once again, Gwen couldn’t focus on it, and it seemed to slide out of view. The five of them started back up to the road themselves. 

“So… Sidthra,” Gwen attempted, certain she was butchering it but doing her best. “You’re from Dpeethdra?”

Sidthra nodded, and Ianto said, “that’s right. And Otto was part of the Cibonyo Liberation.”

“Oh, sounds very exciting,” Gwen said. “Why don’t we take you home, order some takeaway, and you can tell me everything, starting with how you got that scar.”

Jack chuckled at that, and Ianto rolled his eyes, but then he sighed. “Yes,” he said. “Home.”


End file.
